Finding Trevor
by gumtuu
Summary: Part 6 of 5. When Trevor loses his memory, will Claire find the 'real' Trevor?
1. finding pg 01

**FINDING TREVOR**  
A story about the tv show, Cupid  
Part Six of Five  
by Steve 0yervidez  
gumtuu@hotmail.com  
  
"What is more precious than finding life,  
finding joy, finding love? It's finding you...   
you give my soul a place to rest.."  
  
- unknown author  
  
  


The wipers made soothing thumps across the windshield of Claire's car, sliding back and forth across the glass as they pushed the falling rain away. Claire sat in the silence of the car's interior, sadly watching the blades sweep endlessly in front of her as she waited at a red light, her mind a million miles away.  
Another sweep in the quiet, thump, thump, like a lonely heartbeat, the thumping broken only by the steady sound of the rain pelting her car.  
Claire looked out at the traffic on the street. Everything was wet and dreary, getting drenched under a pale overcast sky. People were wrapped in rain coats as they moved along the crosswalks, their steps splashing through the water on the asphalt. Claire hardly noticed, her eyes focusing instead on the raindrops speckling her windshield that were rolling down like small tears, before the wipers swept them away, instantly replaced with new tears.  
That was exactly how she felt.  
The wipers swept back and forth, a soothing thump trying in vain to clear the glass, but the rain didn't stop.  
A single tear rolled down Claire's cheek. She started to think about all that had happened since Trevor had left her. She missed him so much. More than she thought possible. The empty feeling inside her hadn't gone away. No matter how much she wanted it to. he was in her thought every second of every day. It was as if he had left yesterday. But it had already been months. Nearly half a year. The windshield wipers kept up their rhythm as her car idled at the red light, and her mind began to wander, remembering, as a sad, despondent song began to play. The music started with soft held-out chords, tragic and mournful as the lyrics began.  
  
_It's been seven hours and fifteen days...  
Since you took your love away..._  
  
Claire was sitting in front of her singles group, but as was usual for her lately, her heart really wasn't in it. She was staring at nothing, not really listening to the light hearted banter being thrown back and forth between the group. Everyone else in the room seemed to be happy, smiling as they argued, having a good time. But not her. Claire was quiet, her eyes sad as she looked up, her gaze shifting past the animated singles group and settling on an empty chair at the back. Trevor's chair.  
Lowering her eyes, Claire looked away, still feeling the chair there, empty at the back of the room.  
  
The Chicago sidewalk was crowded with pedestrians, all hurrying off to work in the cool morning air. Claire seemed subdued as she moved along with them, not really seeing them around her. She carried the same bag of doughnuts in her hands that she always carried. The same sealed cup of coffee. Walked the same route to her office as yesterday and the day before. But somehow, it was different now. Something imperceptible had changed, and she couldn't put her finger on what it was.  
As she looked up, Claire stopped, realizing something. Trevor wasn't there to bother her on her morning commute. She had always felt that having him not accost her on her way to work every morning would be bliss. It wasn't. Ironic, that the absence of the things that Trevor most annoyed her with, now made her miss him even more.  
Then a familiar sight flashed in the corner of her eye. A familiar face, that remembered smile. Turning, a chill went through her. She saw him. She thought she had seen him, in the sea of pedestrians ahead.  
Rushing forward hopefully, she pushed past the crowd, her melancholy falling away, letting the pedestrians blur past her, not daring to take her eyes off the back of... Turning the man roughly around, Claire stopped. It wasn't Trevor. It was someone she had never seen before, and he gave her a strange look. He hadn't really been there at all. The man walked away without a word, leaving Claire there motionless as the moving crowd flowed past her sad form, lonely and alone.  
Pushing her brief moment of hope away, Claire finally turned away and continued on to work.  
  
_I go out every night, and I sleep all day...  
Since you took your love away..._  
  
Deep shadows covered the sidewalk. The sky above was filled with a glittering mosaic of distant stars, unreachable in the night. Claire was slowly making her way down a darkened walkway, wandering, searching. She had looked everywhere. Alleyways, homeless shelters, various other charitable organizations. She knew it was pretty hopeless. The chances of Trevor still even being in Chicago were small. She knew Trevor better than that. If he had left, he had gone all the way and left the city entirely. But she couldn't just let herself sit around at home, alone and useless. She had to do something, even if it was something pointless.  
Claire continued down the dark street, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as she looked all around, finding nothing as her small figure faded into the night.  
  
Sunlight came streaming brightly in through Claire's bedroom window. Claire was in bed, blinking up at the bright glare as reluctantly she woke up. Looking over at her alarm clock, she realized she was already twenty minutes late for work. With a groan, she pulled her sheets over her head, not wanting to go in today.  
  
Claire smiled at the patient before her, standing up after their session together, but not really feeling like she was on her game today. Her expression fell once the woman left, and Claire walked over to her window, looking out at the city. Sighing, she turned and looked at the shelf on the wall beside her.  
Trevor's music box was sitting there. Weeks ago she had decided to keep it at work to keep her spirits up. And so she could see it more. Lately it seemed as if her life consisted only of going to work and going home to sleep. There was no light beyond that anymore. But seeing the music box Trevor had given her, with its small angel on its lid, always reminded her of him. Like a small ray of remembered sunshine in what had become a pretty dismal routine.  
She reached out and softly touched the music box, growing sad, trying not to cry all over again. As she took a deep breath, she started to wonder if seeing the music box there everyday was really such a good idea after all.  
Jaclyn came into Claire's office, already asking a question as she looked down at the open case file she held before her, busy with work as usual. When Claire didn't answer her, she looked up, seeing her near the window touching the music box Trevor had given her. Claire hadn't even heard her come in. Jaclyn watched Claire silently, feeling her sadness. Slowly she turned and walked back out of the office, closing the door behind her.  
  
Claire was at the park.  
She was sitting alone on a park bench, not moving, lost in her thoughts. Minute upon minute passed and still she didn't move. The people enjoying the park seemed to blur past her in her stillness, the clouds visibly rolling across the sky overhead as the sun quickly zipped towards the horizon, turning the sky from blue to gold, then red to purple. As the sun flared and faded away before her, she didn't notice, having not moved, sitting there alone in the dark.  
  
_Since you've been gone I can do whatever I want..._  
  
Walking down one of the building hallways and back to her office the next day, Claire turned when a woman who worked with her touched her shoulder with a smile. The woman eagerly introduced her to the very handsome man she had brought with her. Taken a little off guard by the introduction, Claire tried to smile and show some enthusiasm, awkward conversation passing between her and the man for a few moments. The man didn't seem to mind, looking at her warmly. After having introduced them, the woman stepped discreetly back, looking pleased.  
As Claire spoke with this new acquaintance, she wasn't really sure what she was doing. Before she knew it she was agreeing to have dinner with this man. Trying to find a break in the conversation to take it back, she finally stopped and thought about it. Maybe it was exactly what she needed. She needed to get out for awhile, needed to get out of her own head.   
The handsome man brightened, happy she had agreed, walking away with a smile on his face. Claire turned away and gratefully headed back to her office, simply relieved that the uncomfortable moment had passed. The female co worker who had introduced them watched her walk past, encouraged by what had happened.   
  
_I can see whoever I choose..._  
  
Shadows were stretching well into Claire's living room as the sun set on the horizon, but Claire didn't notice. She was sitting in front of her computer, the screen's glow reflecting off the small round lenses of her glasses, bathing her face in soft blue light as she searched the internet. Her eyes carefully scanned the web page before her, reading archived newspaper police reports of people who had been picked up. She switched windows on her screen, going to a people search site she had been running. Her fingers danced on the keys, typing a name into the blank space where the waiting cursor blinked.  
Trevor Hale.  
As usual, after the screen paused for a few moments the results came back. All the same names and adresses she had seen and checked already popped up, knowing them by heart. Nothing. Not that she had really expected it to be that easy. She had already tried several potential aliases of Trevor's. Max Love, for instance. She knew he had used that one once. But no hits came back. Claire thought some more, going over all the techniques in her mind she had used before when she had tried to find out Trevor's true identity, now simply trying to find Trevor himself.  
Looking down at her watch, she suddenly realized it was getting late. Turning her head, she saw the fading sunset coming through her living room window, just as she heard a knock on her front door. Whispering a curse at her lapse, Claire quickly stood, hurrying towards her bedroom to get dressed as fast as possible for the date she had forgotten completely about.  
  
_I can eat dinner in a fancy restaurant, but nothing...  
nothing can take away these blues..._  
  
The same handsome man from earlier that morning was sitting across the table from Claire in the elegant, up scale restaurant where they had decided to have dinner. Claire was well dressed, looking beautiful in the candlelight after obviously having made an effort to make up for her earlier lapse. But her mind was still a million miles away.  
The man blinked across the table at her, starting to notice her distraction. "Is anything wrong Claire?"  
Claire didn't look up, staring sadly at the tiny candle flickering in front of her, her sad eyes glittering in it's light.  
"What is it?" The man leaned forward. "Claire..? Was it something I said?"  
He looked at her, wondering what he had done wrong, searching for any reaction from her. But there was nothing. She seemed to not have heard him. The silence stretched on, and he grew a little annoyed. Claire didn't move. Didn't react. Finally he picked up his napkin from his lap and angrily tossed it down onto the table, grabbed his coat and left.  
  
_Nothing compares to you..._  
  
Sitting there alone, Claire didn't even notice that he was gone. Slowly she leaned towards the candle, its glow filling her face, before softly blowing it out. A thin wisp of smoke twisted up from it's burnt tip, and she waved her hands through it slowly, remembering what the carnival psychic had told her as the ribbons of smoke bent around her fingers, thinking of Trevor.  
  
Claire was at her singles group again, not really listening. Nick looked up at her as he relayed the account of his latest romantic disaster to the group, finally asking her what he should do next. He paused when he saw her staring off into space. At the break in the conversation, everyone in the room shifted their attention back to her, wondering what was going on.  
"Claire?" Nick asked.  
Claire shook her head marginally, coming out of it and realizing they were all waiting on her. "I'm sorry, Nick. Could you start over?"  
  
_It's been so lonely here...  
Like a bird without a song..._  
  
Later Claire was curled up on her bed, weeping loudly as she rocked back and forth, her arms wrapped around her knees. The bedroom was empty all around her as night filled the windows. Claire was alone. There was no one else in her empty, echoing house. She continued to cry in the darkness, tears streaming down her cheeks and onto her knees in the dim light. Just one small, despondent figure in her empty bedroom. She knew she could have called Jaclyn, but she didn't want to burden her with this. But beyond her she had no one else to confide in, no one else who knew how she felt about Trevor. No one else who could be allowed to know that she missed him so much, and that she was in love with him. No one else who could know her secret.  
As she rocked gently back and forth, continuing to cry, this time there was no one there to comfort her.  
  
_Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling...  
Tell me baby, where did I go wrong.._  
  
It was the next morning as Claire stepped into the cluttered space of a private investigator's office. The small room was littered with books and filing cabinets, a wealth of scattered information, case data and contacts everywhere she looked. Walking to the cluttered desk, the thin, graying man sitting there looked up from where he was working on his computer when she came near, recognizing her.  
She looked at him hopefully, not saying anything.  
With a sigh the private investigator leaned back. And then as always, he slowly shook his head, having found nothing.  
  
Claire was pacing across her living room, the phone nestled against her cheek. She held a phone book open in her arms, her fingers trailing down the listings under U.S. Psychiatric Facilities. Reading off the book, she pulled the phone down for a moment and dialed in a number, her twentieth long distance call since that morning. After a long wait, someone finally picked up on the other end. She asked for the admittance office, presenting her name and credentials from her hospital in Chicago, and asking about any potential unidentified John Does who may have been admitted recently. The words seemed so second nature to her now, having said the exact same thing to dozens of hospitals so many times before. Claire carefully gave them Trevor's description, hoping for some good news.  
Later she pulled the phone back from her ear with a tired sigh as she hung it up, now standing across the room. New York was a bust. Nothing. Walking back over to where she had left the open phone book, she looked down at it, and for some reason, a worried look flashed across her features. Closing her eyes, Claire flipped a few pages, stopping under a new heading. She looked down at it.  
Morgues, U.S.   
Her eyes filled with fear as she looked down at those words, not breathing. Finally she slammed the phone book shut, taking a deep breath, not ready to go down that road yet. Turning back to the listing of mental hospitals, her finger slid down the entries, before she paused and began to dial psychiatric facilities in Seattle, starting over.  
  
_I could put my arms around every boy I see...  
But they'd only remind me of you..._  
  
Claire was slow dancing in the arms of a different man this time. They were swaying in the middle of a ballroom floor full of slowly dancing couples at a charity event. The man in her arms had dark hair, handsome and strong. She knew him from the bookstore. Over the course of several after conversations, she knew he was obviously interested in her. But deep down, she could feel that she had no real interest in him. Not really. Still, she was trying her best to take the advice she had been given. She had to at least make the attempt anyway, no matter how reluctantly. Trevor was gone. He might never come back. She might never see him again. She had to go on with her life.  
Her thoughts wandered. She suddenly pictured her and Trevor in sunlight, dancing slowly in the cemetery, feeling him in her embrace, the touch of his cheek on hers, the sound of his voice as he-  
Claire's face crumbled as she danced, swaying in her date's embrace, head slowly falling forward onto his shoulder. After a moment he blinked, feeling her shoulders shake in his arms.  
Pulling back, he looked into her face and realized Claire was crying uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face.  
Concerned, he held Claire against him, at a loss. Wiping the tears of her cheeks, he slowly led her off the dance floor.  
  
Claire was in a hallway, pausing outside the door of the staff therapist she had been seeing for the past few months. Taking a deep breath, she was reluctant to go in to her next session, knowing she had really made no progress the past week. Not that she was proud of. But deep down, she knew she needed the help. She needed to address what she was feeling. Finally gathering her courage, Claire resolved herself and walked in, closing the door behind her.  
  
_I went to the doctor and guess what he told me,  
Guess what he told me..._  
  
Claire was seated in front of her therapist, feeling a little uncomfortable. He was at his desk, a graying man with kind eyes. Claire shifted in her chair, not really used to being in session from this side of the desk. Her eyes were sad as she looked at the older gentleman, the hospital's confidential staff therapist.  
"So how did the date go last night, Claire. Did it go well?" he asked gently.  
Claire paused, a little caught off guard. For a moment, his voice had almost sounded like Trevor's, teasing her about her love life, or lack thereof. Pushing the thought away, she realized he was still waiting for an answer. Not saying a word, Claire lowered her eyes, subtly shaking her head no.  
The older man sighed, watching her for a few moments, trying to understand. Finally, he continued. "What happened?"  
Claire looked away, turning her gaze out the window, its light revealing tears forming in her eyes. For what seemed the hundredth time, she wondered when they would finally stop. Her voice was soft and fragile as she answered. "I... I started to cry. We were dancing, and... And everything was fine, and then... I started to cry. And I couldn't stop." Claire tried to smile. "Umm... everything kind of went downhill after that..."  
The man empathized, seeing how much this was hurting her. He put down his pen and leaned closer. "Claire, you have to get past this. Try enjoying your self. Living your life again. It'll be good for you. As your therapist, let me say that you will never be truly happy until you let go. Until you move on..."  
"I know..." Claire nodded, wiping her eyes. "I'll do better next time..."  
He looked at her, his eyes full of sympathy. "I hope so, Claire..."  
  
_He said girl you better have fun no matter what you do...  
But he's a fool..._  
  
Claire was alone under an overcast sky as she stepped forward, looking out from the skyscraper observation deck, high over Chicago. It was the same place where she had thrown off her book. she had never dreamed that someday she would have to discard Trevor as well. There was no one there with her, since it was the middle of the work day. The open walkways were empty around her. Claire didn't mind. Looking out over the crowded city, she always felt alone anyway.  
  
Later Claire's hair was wet, having come in from the rain falling outside, sitting at the top of the stairs outside Trevor's apartment, thinking to herself. The light in the ceiling far above glittered in her drenched hair. She kept looking down at the landing before her, knowing that was the exact place where Trevor had fallen when he had been shot. Faith had been standing right behind where she was sitting now. Claire kept thinking of Trevor out there somewhere, possibly hurt and in pain, just for being Trevor. She was missing him so much wondering where he was. The world seemed so big in that moment, stretching endless to the horizon in all directions beyond those dimly lit walls around her.  
There was a sound behind her as the door to Trevor's apartment started open. Claire turned where she sat, an hopeful thrill passing through her. Someone was coming out of his apartment. The hem of a long coat that was so instantly familiar swung into view. She had been yearning to see that coat again for so long and she was about to get up and rush into his arms when... Claire's face fell when she realized that her eyes had been playing tricks on her. It was only Allison.  
Allison paused in mid step as she locked her apartment, seeing her sitting there. "Claire..?"  
With a disappointed exhalation Claire turned away, dropping her face into her hands. Allison watched her sobbing, surprised. Slowly she walked over, uncertain what to do. Taking a seat beside her on the top step, she tenderly put her arms around Claire's shoulders as she cried. Claire leaned in to her, wanting someone near. Confused, Allison rested her chin on Claire's hair, wondering what had her so upset. She didn't know Claire very well, having only met her a few times through Champ. But Claire was in pain, so she held her closer, trying to comfort her, even though she didn't know what was going on. The two woman sat there, alone in the dark of the empty stairway.  
  
_Nothing compares to you..._  
  
Claire was standing at the podium in front of the hospital review board, discussing the treatment options for one of her patients. Her voice was a dull monotone, causing some of the board members to look up at her vacant tone. Even as she continued talking, going over all the mundane therapeutic minutiae, her mind was wandering, bored with her work and just trying to get through the day.  
  
That night Claire was in bed. It took her a moment to remember that she was asleep. And dreaming.  
It was the same dream.  
She didn't know how, but she was running. Running agonizingly slowly down the hallway outside the office where Trevor had punched Richard. Every corridor was empty and in shadows all around her as a dim ghostly light illuminating everything a pale blue. Her achingly body ran through them in slow motion, straining in the unexplained thickness of the air. The corridors seemed to stretch farther and farther everywhere she looked, endless in the distance. Totally empty except for her. No people, no furniture, nothing. She was looking for him, searching everywhere for Trevor. It always seemed like an eternity in her dream. But whenever she rounded another corner, everything moving so slowly, she always found nothing. Trevor was never there.  
The dream always ended the same way, turning that one final corner where she had found him before, standing there in the sunlight beside the window at the end of a hallway. But the window was always dark, no sunlight coming through. And no one was ever there.  
Suddenly Claire jerked up in her bed, realizing it had been another dream. The same dream. It was still the middle of the night, and she was sitting in bed. Turning her head, she laid back down, coming out of the dream with a deep breath. She closed her eyes, trying to get to sleep. But even behind her eyelids, she knew she would see herself running.  
  
_Nothing compares to you..._  
  
Sitting alone near the window at Taggerty's, Claire watched Champ and Allison behind the bar. Champ was leaning close to her as he showed her where everything was, training her to be a new bartender so she could take Trevor's old shift between her acting gigs.  
Seeing her there reminded Claire how much things had changed. Her thoughts filled with memories of Trevor, and the things that had happened, picturing the past. Of walking with him, side by side in the dim romantic light of one of the downtown bridges, alone during their 'double date' with Champ and Jaclyn. She remembered being in his apartment as he had spread himself across his front door, not letting her leave to tell Jaclyn they were onto her and Champ's little plan. She remembered seeing him across the dance floor at her class reunion, kissing her sister Mara. Remembered wiping her tears away, not wanting to admit why she was crying. She remembered her and Trevor running away in the rain from that psychic woman's tent, the rain shining golden in the sun as in relief they had swung around in each other's arms, happy to be home. She could even remember Trevor bending her back in front of her office, and how it felt as he gave her that overwhelming, incredible kiss. A kiss that if she thought about it, she could still feel tingling on her lips even now.  
Champ and Allison were still joking around behind the bar, and Claire's face saddened at all the changes in her life. Remembering all the surgeons hunched over Trevor's body after Faith had shot him. Remembering kissing him desperately on the lips as he lay unconscious in a hospital bed, her tear falling onto his cheek just as his eyes fluttered open. She remembered the hurt expression on Trevor's face when she told him she couldn't be his doctor. And the same expression when she told him she couldn't be in love him. She remembered Trevor's arm blurring as he punched Richard. Remembered chasing him down the hallway, and falling into his arms. Remembered Trevor's farewell note in her hands as the snow fell outside the window of his apartment. And the realization that she would never see him again, reaching up to touch the cold glass, gently tracing the shape of a-  
  
Suddenly the angry blare of a car horn brought Claire slamming back into the present. Realizing that she was sitting in her car, she listened to the comforting thump of the wipers sliding across the glass of her rain soaked windshield.  
Trying to get her bearings, Claire looked up. The light in the intersection before her was green. Still a little flustered, she wiped a tear away as she started to pull the car forward. Claire looked absently into her rear view mirror where the sun behind her was finally shining through the rain. And suddenly she saw something.  
Claire slammed her foot down onto the brake, her car bobbing to a stop in the exact middle of the busy intersection, rain pouring down all around. Slamming her car into park, Claire threw her door open and rushed out into the rain, running to the back bumper as the rain started to soak her clothing. Eyes filled with wonder, she looked at her back windshield. There was no denying it. There it was, in the rain droplets on the glass. Someone had just traced a shape in the sunlight. A shape of a heart with an arrow shot through it. Claire looked desperately around, water dripping into her eyes as she turned in a circle. Her vision frantically swept over the busy street, standing in the middle of the intersection as cars honked at her in the sunlight and rain.  
"Trevor!"  
She couldn't see him. It had to be him.  
Turning in place in the downpour, now really starting to get soaked, she stood there as a Chicago police cruiser pulled up beside her car in the rain, momentarily flashing a single rotation of it's blue lights as a short wail from it's siren got her attention. The window of the police cruiser rolled down, and the officer inside called out to her, giving her a stern look.  
"Is there a problem, ma'am?"  
Claire gave him only a cursory glance, still turning in place, searching, looking like a mad woman standing out there in the rain. cars waited. people walked under umbrellas. But she saw nothing. Nothing at all. And suddenly she wasn't so sure anymore. Looking back at her rear windshield, her face fell. The falling rain had already washed away the tracing in the droplets. Maybe it had never really been there at all.  
"No, officer." Claire's voice was soft. "There's no problem..."  
Resigned to the truth, Claire reluctantly walked back over to her open car door, the rain pelting her head as she took one last look around. Then she got back into her car and closed the door.  
The sunlight faded as more clouds rolled in front of it, and the light dimmed as Claire started to pull through the intersection as the police officer rolled his window back up. The rain fell loudly all around as the police cruiser pulled away, traffic starting to move through the intersection again.  
  
A man in a dark coat on the sidewalk watched Claire's car pull away, eyes following it as it moved across one of the bridges spanning the river, before stopping at the light at the far side. Still watching, the man pulled back his rain drenched hood.  
It was Trevor.  
He sighed, wishing he could have talked to her. He had snuck up to her car to trace his heart on the glass. He had almost gone up to her window. He had honestly thought about it. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He shouldn't even be in Chicago, and Claire definitely shouldn't know about it. But he had felt a pull, an urge telling him to come back because he couldn't stay away. He just wanted to see her, if nothing else. Even if he couldn't talk to her, or even let her know he was there. but she couldn't know he had come back. What he had done was stupid. He couldn't put her through all that again.  
Looking sadly at her car driving away on the other side of the river, Trevor stepped forward off the curb, distracted as the rain continued to fall all around. Suddenly there was a screech of tires splashing through the wet asphalt, and as Trevor looked up he saw the front of a taxi rushing right towards him, an instant before slamming into him as everything went black.  
  
The rain falling outside Claire's office window had finally stopped. An early afternoon sun was shining in a clear blue Chicago sky cleaned fresh from the rain. Claire was at her desk organizing her notes from the day's sessions, hunched over several case files as she worked. Behind her on the shelf, the lid of Trevor's music box was open, it's gentle lilting music playing softly. Eventually the music began to slow, but for once Claire didn't seem to notice, engrossed in her work. Then the music coming from behind her finally stopped, having wound down. Her pen made scratching noises on the paper as she wrote in the silence of her office.  
Suddenly Claire did notice the quiet around her, and her pen stopped. Lifting her head, she listened to the silence. And for the first time in a long time, it seemed okay. It would be okay. She felt better, for once not on the verge of tears just thinking Trevor wasn't there. With a pleased sigh, she went back to her notes, transferring them into her case files, her mind no longer distracted as she worked.  
Suddenly the phone rang.  
Still looking down at the open file before her, Claire didn't turn her head as she reached over and picked up, bringing the phone to her ear.  
"Dr. Claire Allen..." she said.  
She listened to the woman speaking on the other side of the line for several moments.  
The pen dropped abruptly from her shocked hand in the silence of the room, as Claire suddenly... smiled.  
  
Jaclyn was walking back to her desk when she was forced to jump out of the way as Claire dashed out of her office, running past her without stopping. The door to Claire's office was left swinging open behind her.  
Confused, Jaclyn turned in place, catching a glimpse of a look of joy on Claire's face before she disappeared down the hallway. She called out after her.  
"Claire! What is it?"  
But Claire didn't stop, disappearing around the corner and sprinting to her car as fast as she could.  
  
The wet streets were still shiny and clean from the recent rain, their asphalt surfaces a deep rich black, sparkling slightly with the sheen of water. The air was fresh and new. Claire accelerated her car forward, quickly turning the steering wheel as the sunlight shifted on the few remaining raindrops drying on her windshield. The air flowing over her car pushed the droplets up the glass, reflecting golden in the sun, like tiny comets rising.  
Claire was reluctantly forced to stop at an intersection, trapped behind a row of cars waiting in front of her. Her eyes flashed up to the red light above. Claire's hands bounced impatiently on top of the steering wheel, unable to keep the anticipation from her expression, face bathed in golden sunlight.  
"Come on, come on..." she whispered.  
Finally Claire couldn't wait any longer. Thinking about it for a moment, she bit her lip. Then suddenly she turned the wheel hard over and accelerated forward, squealing into the empty approaching traffic lane to her left. Her car sped past the row of cars waiting in front of her, screeching into the intersection and making a sharp left turn, forcing the crossing traffic to come to a stop, angrily honking their horns at her.  
Claire's car sped away in it's new direction, disappearing into the distance.  
  
The doors to the county medical hospital slammed open as Claire rushed in, her eyes filled with hope. She dashed breathlessly forward, stopping for nothing, in the process almost managing to knock over a hospital supply cart that pushed its way in front of her.  
"Sorry..." Claire apologized to the man pushing the cart, but she didn't stop. She rushed over to the admitting desk, leaning forward. Facing the attending nurse who had called her on the phone, she tried to stay calm.  
"Where is he?" Claire asked breathlessly.  
  
Claire was running again, trying to contain her hope, but feeling a sense of anticipation course through her body. Dodging forward around several people, she tried not to run over anyone in her way. It was harder than it seemed. As the hospital corridor slid past her, what she was doing suddenly struck her. She was running down a hospital hallway, like in her dream. But this hallway was real, filled with staff and patients. She wasn't there alone. Everything around her was focused and sharp, clear and very very much awake. The hallway slid towards her, bright and filled with sound, her steps free and unencumbered, unlike in her dream, each stride coming fast and easily. This was no dream.  
Claire's eyes frantically passed over each approaching room number, moving around slower people in the hall, letting them blur past her. The entire hallway seemed to be sprinting towards her. Speeding forward she felt the air on her face, leaving each section behind. Suddenly Claire spotted a closed door up ahead, and she slowed to a stop in front of it.  
Pausing, Claire took a deep breath to clear her head. This was it. This was the point in her dream where it always ended, turning the final corner, with Trevor never there. Suddenly feeling a little nervous, she looked at the closed door, not knowing what was behind it. Who was behind it. Trying to steady herself against possible disappointment, she whispered softly.  
"Let it be him. Please... let it be him... I can't bear losing him again. Him not being in there..."  
Reaching forward, she tried to keep her fingers from shaking. Claire firmly gripped the door handle, before pushing the door open and stepping in. She moved slowly into the room, as the hospital bed came into view before her.  
"Trevor!"  
With a relieved gasp she rushed forward, collapsing down against him on the hospital bed, and hugging him for all she was worth. Trevor was awake and lying there, his forehead tightly bandaged, looking a little surprised at her reaction.  
"Well hello to you too..." he laughed.  
Claire giggled, a smile on her face as she touched his, over and over again, not believing it. "Please. Tell me you're real. This can't be a dream. Tell me you're real..."  
"Believe me, I'm real. A fact I'm becoming more and more aware of the more you touch me like that..." His hips shifted uncomfortably underneath him.  
"Trevor, I missed you," Claire took him into her arms, her face pressed against the side of his, feeling him solid and whole in her grasp. "Where the hell have you been? I looked for you and I looked for you. I looked everywhere for months, and nothing. But then the attending nurse recognized you when they brought you in and she called me, and then I didn't know what to think, wondering if you were alright, if you were hurt or in trouble, and now you're here, and you're real, and don't you dare do that to me ever again, or I'll... I'll, I don't know what I'll-"  
He laughed again at her long stream of words, pulling back to look at her. "Slow down, slow down. Everything's fine. I'm okay."  
"Promise me you'll never leave me again, Trevor."  
"Okay,I-... I guess I promise..."  
"I've missed you so much..." Claire looked into his eyes.  
"That's good to know," Trevor smiled, placing his hands on top of hers. "And here I thought you were just being unbelievably friendly..."  
"Trevor.. we have so much to catch up on..."  
"Apparently more than you know..." he answered, seeming a little reluctant, not wanting to break her enthusiasm.  
She hugged him tighter, not noticing, her voice sounding more relieved than it had in months. "We have a lot of things to work out between us, Trevor..."  
"Yeah. Umm, yeah.... But there's something I really have to know first before we get into all that."  
"Sure, Trevor. Anything..." Claire waited.  
Trevor paused as he looked into her eyes, as if searching for what she saw in them. Finally he took a breath and forced the words out, deciding to just be completely honest with her.  
"Just who are you exactly?" he asked.  
  
  


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	2. finding pg 02

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Jaclyn was pacing quickly back and forth across the hallway outside of Trevor's hospital room, smiling excitedly. She was nearly bouncing in place when Claire walked out of Trevor's room and softly closed the door. Jaclyn quickly walked up to her, her voice full of enthusiasm.  
"How is he, Claire? Is Trevor ok?"  
Calmly Claire sighed, gathering herself. "He's ok..."  
Her eyes lit up. "That's great news! Can I see him?"  
"Jaclyn... there's something I need to tell you first..."  
Pausing, the smile slowly fell from Jaclyn's face. "What.... what is it?"  
"Trevor's ok now. But he was brought in because he was hit by a car. A nurse recognized him and called me. He's fine. Really. There's no severe damage, and he's going to be released soon. But he did receive a hard hit to the head..."  
Jaclyn smiled. "He needed one for leaving in the first place."  
"There's something else..."  
A worried look passed Jaclyn's eyes. "What?"   
"Trevor has..." Reluctantly, Claire finally said it. "Trevor doesn't remember who he is."  
Stunned as she stood there in front of Claire, she couldn't believe what she had heard. "He doesn't remember?"  
"No..." Claire paused, inhaling. "Trevor doesn't remember who any of us are."  
Jaclyn looked at her sadly, growing quiet. "Not even you?"  
Claire lowered her eyes, but she couldn't hide the pain in her expression. "Not even me..."  
"Oh Claire..." Stepping forward, Jaclyn tenderly reached out and wrapped her arms around her. "I'm--... Claire, I'm so sorry..."  
Trying to keep her disappointment inside, Claire sniffed as Jaclyn held her, closing her eyes. "It's ok. It is. I'm just happy Trevor's safe. That's all that matters. That he's ok."  
"But are you ok?" There was concern in Jaclyn's voice.  
"I'm fine..." She pulled out of Jaclyn's arms. "Really. Actually, I was thinking about this... and it's a great opportunity."  
"An opportunity?" She blinked at Claire, confused. "How..?  
"Trevor's lost his memory. He has no memory of who he was, or of his delusion."  
"Or of how the two of you feel about each other," Jaclyn said urgently.  
Claire softly exhaled again. "That's not important right now."  
Jaclyn pleaded, stepping closer. "But it is important. Love is important! If Trevor taught me anything, it's that love is the most important thing in the world. You have to tell him! Tell him who he was. Tell him about his life with you. And about how you both feel. That's what he really needs right now! What you need. You have to be honest. You have to tell him that you love him, Claire."  
Claire looked away silently, pain in her eyes, as if caught on Jaclyn's words.  
"I can't..." she said softly. Her voice almost seemed to waver. "I can't do that to him again, Jaclyn. Do you want him to end up right where he was before? Believing he's the god of love. Ridiculed and locked away in some hospital? Waiting to be drugged up or worse? That's exactly what Frank almost did to him. Trevor was almost committed. Is that what you really want for him?"  
Jaclyn was about to say something, but she stopped, thinking about it.  
Claire pressed her point. "Jaclyn this is my chance! This is Trevor's chance! The real Trevor's still in there somewhere. Free of Cupid and free of his delusion. Just the real person who's always been there underneath. Maybe he'll finally show us who he really is, instead if who he pretends to be. He'll start to manifest his real self, I know he will! But only if I can keep his god of love delusion at bay long enough. This is our chance to find the real person he is without the delusion! To find Trevor. I've never been able to get at the trauma which drove him to think he was Cupid in the first place, because his past has always been completely blocked behind it. But now, maybe I can give him a clean slate, a fresh start, let him finally face that hurt. This is Trevor's chance to finally stop hiding that trauma away! And it's our chance. Our chance to free him from a judgmental world. Maybe I can finally cure him now, even after all this time. By helping him remember who he really is..."  
Jaclyn shook her head. "But... then he wouldn't be our Trevor anymore."  
"But maybe he'd be happy. Maybe he'd finally accept his life." Claire was insistent, yet her voice was gentle as she looked into Jaclyn's eyes. "I love him, Jaclyn. I know you do to. The question is... how much do you love him?"  
"Claire, I'm--" Jaclyn looked away, her words stumbling uncomfortably over one another."I-I'm with Champ now, and I would never try to-"  
"That's not what I mean." Claire took a deep breath, as if she was scared to admit it even to herself. "Jaclyn... We may never get the Trevor we knew back. But we can still help him. Do you love Trevor enough to give him a chance at being happy? Even if he never remembers us? Do you love him enough not to tell him that he believed he was Cupid, to not risk him falling back into that again? Love him enough to give him a life without doctor's, without hospitals or review boards. Do you love him that much, Jaclyn?"  
Jaclyn turned away, her face sad. The hallway was quiet for a moment as the two women stood there. The noises from the hospital were soft in the distance. Finally she looked back at Claire again. "You know I do..."  
Claire's voice was a relieved whisper. "Thank you. Thank you, Jaclyn."  
Reaching up, Jaclyn wiped her eyes. Claire noticed and reached over to help dry her cheek.  
"I think he'd really like to see you..." Claire said softly. "Even if he doesn't know why..."  
"Ok..." Jaclyn took a deep breath, trying to smile again. "I promise I won't tell him, Claire."  
Claire sighed, silent for a moment. "It's for the best, Jaclyn."  
"I hope so..." Jaclyn turned and slowly walked over to Trevor's hospital room door. Reaching out, her hand paused reluctantly on the doorknob, not turning around when she spoke.  
"Claire..."  
"What?" She looked over at Jaclyn standing there, facing Trevor's door.  
"If-... If we never get our Trevor back, if he never remembers... I'll miss him."  
Claire's breath trembled quietly as she exhaled.  
"Me too..."  
With that Jaclyn opened the door and stepped into Trevor's room, closing it gently behind her.  
Claire stood there alone, motionless, feeling the lonely expanse of the hallway behind her, thinking quietly. This had to work. She knew it would be hard for her to ignore what she had wanted after missing him for so long. Hard to not just blurt out the truth about what they had shared. Hard to stay closed off, not telling him how they had felt about each other. But she also knew this was probably Trevor's last chance. The hospital board wouldn't be patient forever.  
The long hallway stretched empty behind her as Claire reached up, holding the bridge of her nose as she lowered her head and cried softly, arms wrapped tightly around herself.  
  
There was a soft knock on Claire's office door.  
She was sitting behind her desk, quiet for a moment when she heard that sound. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she finally called out.  
"Come in, Trevor."  
The door swung open, and Trevor cautiously poked his head in. He looked around the room, uncertain. It was obvious from his expression that he felt out of place as he leaned partially into her office. "Umm... is this the right time?"  
Claire smiled. "Yes, Trevor. Actually, you're right on time. Which worries me..."  
Trevor stepped carefully in and closed the door behind him. Standing there across the room he looked over at her, but he didn't move away from the door. "Really. Why is that?"  
"The Trevor I knew was always late..."  
"Then... I guess maybe I'm not him. Sounds like a easy going kind of guy. Wish I could have met him."  
"Me too..." she said softly, thinking for a moment.  
Claire rose from her chair, walking around her desk until she stood in front of it. Crossing her arms before her she leaned back against the desk's edge, looking at him carefully. "In a way, that's what we're hoping to accomplish here, isn't it?"  
Trevor shrugged, not knowing how to answer that. "I guess..."  
He still hadn't come away from the door, looking uncomfortable as he stood there, eyes passing across her office as if it was unfamiliar to him.  
Claire smiled. That innocence almost seemed endearing to her somehow. "Trevor, why don't you come in..."  
"Umm... ok..." He stepped slowly closer, taking a deep breath into the unexplained silence between them. Smiling again, he tried to lighten the mood. "Umm... you're receptionist back there is really friendly. Does she hug all your patients that way?"  
"No, just you I think."  
His eyes sparkled. "Maybe she should. Be great for business. They'd line up around the block."  
"Trevor, why don't you take a seat."  
"Umm... ok..."  
He moved cautiously over towards the couch, before stepping right past it and moving without hesitation to take Claire's seat behind the desk. Acting as if nothing was wrong he leaned back in her chair, and with a comfortable sigh he propped his shoes up on top of her desk. Looking over, he blinked as Claire's amused expression took him by surprise. "Is this... is this ok? Because I'll move if-"  
Claire smiled slightly. "No. It's fine, Trevor. You just seemed like your old self for a second." Still amused, Claire calmly took Trevor's seat on the couch, facing him, her notebook on her lap, as another quiet began to stretch between them again.  
"Hmm..." He took the opportunity to look around her office. "This... this is nice. This is a really nice place. It suits you."  
"What do you mean?" she asked gently.  
"Being here. In this office. It fits you, somehow... I think you belong here..."  
"You don't even know me, Trevor."  
He stared into mid air as if trying to remember. Finally he looked dejectedly back at her when he couldn't. "Wish I did..."  
"Hmm. Agreeing with me already..." she joked, nodding slowly. "But thanks for the sentiment anyway, Trevor."  
After a few more moments of silence, she looked up and realized Trevor was looking her over, and definitely appreciating what he saw. "Sooo...." He said suggestively. "You're my shrink, huh? You're really cute. Why would I ever want to be cured..."  
Claire smiled but said nothing.  
Trevor's eyes started wandering nervously over all her psychology degrees on the wall. "So I was crazy before..."  
"I wouldn't go that far. You just needed a little help."  
"Don't we all..." His voice was low and serious, until he thought of something. "Help with what exactly?"  
"Umm..." She took a breath, sounding reluctant. "We don't really have to discuss all that right away, Trevor."  
He blinked. "Why do you keep calling me that?"  
"What?"  
"Trevor. You keep calling me Trevor."  
A concerned look came into her eyes. "Because it's your name. Trevor Hale is your name."  
He shook his head, not recognizing it. "Never heard of him."  
"You don't remember him at all?"  
"No..."  
Claire's lips parted, inhaling nervously. "Trevor... do you remember me?"  
He was about to say something, but stopped, straining for some fragment, some solid image dancing at the edge of his mind of residual memory, but coming up with nothing. "No... I feel like I should. Like I should remember you. It feels... sad I guess, that I can't for some reason. If I try I can almost remember your face. Picture it somewhere else. In sunlight, I think. Happy. Smiling up at the rain. But the fact that I can't--.... still hurts, somehow."  
Claire looked a little disappointed, lowering her eyes. "I see..."  
Trevor tried to smile, his tone lightening. "So I guess I'll have to take your word about my entire name thing. Trevor Hale, huh? Good as any other, I guess. But it's not quiet right somehow."  
"Why not?" she asked.  
"It's not my real name, for one thing. My real name is-"  
Claire went perfectly still, the air quiet in anticipation when he paused.  
Trevor blinked as his mind worked, before growing frustrated. "Damn. I thought I had it for a second, but I lost it. It's not there anymore."  
"Give it time. It'll come back. How do you know your name's not Trevor?" she asked.  
"I don't. I just know it doesn't feel right somehow. Like it should be something else. Something bigger. Besides... do you honestly think I look like a Trevor? Come on. I'm better looking than that."  
Claire smiled. "I think Trevor's a very attractive name."  
He looked at her, a flirty gleam in his eye. "Is it getting warm in here or is it just you? We both know Trevor sounds like some pale computer geek who's never interacted with a real woman outside of the internet. Assuming those 'women' aren't questionable of course." Smiling, his voice took on a high nasal tone, forcing an overbite as he adjusted imaginary glasses. "Umm... excuse me, you sure are _preeetty_, doctor lady. You can scramble my cerebellum any day. Heh, heh, heh, heh (snorts)...Say... Do you want to come over and watch Star Trek in my basement later? I have them all on Beta. We could get silly willy on some root beer..."   
"Fine, Trevor." She smiled. "What name would you choose then?"  
He returned to his normal voice, leaning confidently back. "I don't know. Something grander. More majestic. Looming, if you understand what I'm getting at. In case you didn't notice, and we both know you did, I'm kind of the hottie's hottie. So how about something like, I don't know... Adonis?"  
Claire nodded, her eyes bright. "Apparently your ego didn't take the same train out off town that your memories did." She sighed. "It would be so much simpler if you could just tell me your actual name."  
"Look, I wish it was all just as easy as magically snapping my fingers and, boom... I'm my old self again. Whatever or whoever that was. Maybe then all of you wouldn't keep giving me that same look every time I don't remember..."  
"Look? What kind of look, Trevor?"  
"Disappointed." He watched her. "You know... Like the way your looking at me now. Wish I could be what you expect."  
"And what do you think we expect, Trevor?"  
"I don't know." Face drawn tighter, he subtly tilted his head for a moment, an off handed gesture to show it didn't bother him, even though it obviously did. "Someone else I guess..."  
"Wanting to be someone else..." Claire's words were more careful now. "Being someone else. Is there something wrong with just being you? Something you don't like? That you'd rather not remember?"  
"Strange as it sounds, you're in a better position to tell me that than I am, lady."  
Claire looked at him sadly at that admission. "Then you really don't remember me...."  
"Hey, if we had met before, I know I would have remembered you." His voice took a playful, seductive tone. "If it helps, we could always compare full body birthmarks. I'll go first-"  
Trevor started to lift his shirt, but Claire stopped him.  
"That's ok, Trevor. Let's just keep this professional."  
He smiled widely. "Professional huh? I'd peg you as more of an 'intensely' skilled amateur, but what do I know right? Still it's your call. But can I just say for the record at this point, we obviously have wildly differing opinions on just what's therapeutic..."  
Smiling at his barrage of suggestive overtures, a dubious look came into her eyes and she spoke more playfully. "Are you... positive you don't remember?"  
"I don't!" He laughed. "Really. Why? Is there something really really.... REALLY great that I should remember? I hope?" He loudly popped the 'p' in the last syllable.  
"Trevor, the real question is, is there something you don't want to remember."  
"You're the shrink. You tell me. Who do you think I think I am?"  
"Umm..." Claire sounded reluctant, looking away. "I'm not sure. I only remember who you were with me, Trevor. Who you claimed to be at least. I always believed you were hiding your true identity. I still do. Even then, you were hiding from yourself. So in a way, I know as little about who you really are as you do right now. When I met him, the man I knew was Trevor Hale. I don't know who he was before that. What life he lived. Who he tried to bury behind his delusion. He never showed me that person. But maybe the two of us can find him together. Me and you. I want you to remember the real you, Trevor, not just the charming delusional man I knew. But the whole truth. All of it, no matter how painful it is..."  
Trevor's voice was full of conviction, answering instantly. "See, there's the problem right there with you professional shrink types. In the end there is no real truth. The only truth is love..."  
He was gazing at her face fondly, not looking away, as if trying to associate having felt that way. Claire shifted slightly under the tenderness in his eyes.  
"I-I don't think those sort of implications towards me are really appropriate, Trevor. I'm your doctor. I'm here to help you..."  
Trevor looked confused. "Implications? What implications? I was just thinking out loud..."  
"Oh..." She spoke softly to herself so only she could hear. "Then I guess you really don't remember..."  
Trevor heard it anyway. "Since I keep having to repeat it, apparently I'm not the only one."  
Claire looked at him pointedly, pushing her feelings aside. It was getting harder to remind herself that this was an opportunity. "What are you hiding from, Trevor?"  
He exhaled tiredly, looking out the window. "Everybody hides..."  
"Why do you think that?"  
"Because they do. They hide from their boss, they hide from their friends, they even hide from complete strangers they pass on the street, afraid anyone will get a look at the real them. Flaws and all... hidden under clothes or makeup, or the cars they drive. Everybody hides, Dr. Allen." He looked at her. "Even if it's behind a doctorate."  
"Or behind what they've forgotten..." She countered. Nodding, she tried to process what he said, before deciding to continue. "If it's ok with you Trevor, I'd like to ask you a few questions."  
He looked steadily into her eyes, unwavering. "Quid Pro Quo..."  
She looked up from the notes she had started. "Excuse me?"  
Trevor didn't look away. "Quid pro quo. It's Latin. You're not the only one with questions to ask. And maybe I'm not the only one who's hiding."  
"What am I hiding?"  
"What you know about who I was. You still haven't told me what was wrong with me before. Then again, maybe you're hiding what you know about yourself. I can't tell. Either way... You want to help me? Maybe I can help you at the same time."  
She looked at him, almost sad. "Help me with what?"  
"Doesn't take a psychotic like me to see the past in your eyes, Dr. Allen. Someone hurt you. Deep down. Someone you still miss... Who was he?"  
There was a silence in the room, as Claire struggled for words. Looking down, she seemed off balance. "Trevor, I--"  
He leaned forward. "Anyway, that's the deal. You want to find out about me? I want to find out about you too."  
"That's not usually how therapy works, Trevor."  
Trevor smiled. "Like I said. We have differing opinions on what's therapeutic. So. What's it going to be, Dr. Allen. Do we have a deal? You wash my back, and I wash your... front?" He rubbed his hands in anticipation.  
Claire was about to object out of habit, but she stopped herself, thinking about it. She finally spoke, seeing an opportunity.  
"Deal." she said absently.  
Trevor nodded, leaning happily back. "Ok. Fire away, Sparky."  
Startled, Claire smiled, surprised. "What did you call me?"   
He didn't understand. "What?"  
"Sparky..." There was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "You called me Sparky."  
"Really? I thought I said Spanky... What did I say?"  
"Sparky."  
"Sparky? Where did that come from?"  
"Where did Spanky come from?" she countered.  
"Nothing. Just... something. A little something I was picturing in my head. Forget it. It's nothing. Fire away."  
"Before I do, I'll have to ask you to refrain from picturing me that way in your head."  
"Sure..." He didn't sound very convincing, an amused expression on his face.  
"I mean it."  
Trevor tried not to smile. "Ok..."  
"Trevor... I'm serious..."  
"I thought you said your name was Claire."  
"Trevor..." she warned.  
"Fine. Fine. There. I stopped. See? Total brain freeze."  
"That's a minor temperature drop..." She could see a new glimmer in his eyes. "And don't picture me that way either."  
Trevor smiled, having been caught. "You're no fun..."  
"Just, stop Trevor."  
"I will... I--I mean I did. I promise. Done. Look..." Grinning, he started banging the side of his head with his fist as if trying to knock the images out. "Get... out... of... there!" he said earnestly.  
Claire couldn't help but smile. "Ok. Now then-"  
He interrupted her. "Before we start, if I may ask for future reference, just exactly how limber are you?"  
She sighed in annoyance, before getting an idea of her own. "You know what? You're not the only one who can picture things in their mind, Trevor."  
"Why Mrs. Robinson... Are you trying to seduce me? See, playful banter, erotic imaging, now we're communicating." Trevor answered.  
There was a wicked light in Claire's eyes, but it was definitely not a pleasant one. Her smile was still full of serenity however, thinking, picturing.  
Trevor already didn't like that look. Tilting his head, he stared at her warily. "Just... w-what are you picturing, exactly?"  
His eyes shifted to the long pencil she slowly lifted into view between them, holding only the bottom tip, pointing freely upward at a steep angle.  
"Oh nothing, Trevor... Just thinking. What I'd like to do to. You know, to make these sessions go a little easier you understand..." He smiled as her fingers caressed gently up the pencil, before she suddenly snapped it into two jagged pieces with one vicious twist, making Trevor wince.  
Claire sighed contently. "What a beautiful sound. Don't you love that sound? That unbelievably swift, unstoppable... CRACK as it snaps completely in two. One piece here, one piece over there. You're absolutely right, Trevor. Imagining is fun..."  
He swallowed, picturing it in his head. "Ok the mood's definitely gone now..."  
"Great. Now, first question."  
Trevor was already raising a hand as if he were in class. "Ooh, ooh ooh! Me, me, me!"  
"I meant MY question, Trevor."  
"One caveat first..."  
"Only one..." Claire leaned back wearily. "The gods must be smiling on me today."  
Trevor blinked at her reference, confused.  
"Never mind..." Claire said, not explaining. "What's the condition, Trevor?"  
"Well, as nice as this office is, and as much as I enjoy the thought of the two of us alone behind closed doors for an hour..." He paused, waiting until Claire shifted in her chair at his implication. Then a smile spread across his face. "... what do you say we get out of here?"  
Reluctantly she agreed, not feeling like arguing the point. "Fine, Trevor. Whatever it takes. No one claimed your recuperation would be a walk in the park."  
  
The sun was shining brightly down out of a clear blue sky as they went for a walk in the park, bathing the lush green of the city park in a flawless afternoon light. The grass and sidewalks were packed with people taking late lunches, or extended lunches, or no lunches at all, just relaxing under the sun or in the shade of the park's trees as skyscrapers towered in the distance above them.   
Their two figures moved slowly down one of the walkways, side by side as they passed through the park, coming closer, Trevor and Claire.  
Trevor took a few steps ahead of her, spreading his arms out to either side with a smile as he tilted his face up to the warm sun. "Ahh... sunshine."  
Amused at his enthusiasm, Claire rushed to catch up, falling into step beside him. "You act like you've never seen sunshine before, Trevor."  
"I thought I had." Still walking, he looked over at the warm light falling onto her face. "Until now..."  
Tongue in cheek, she parted her lips slightly at the compliment. "Do you always fall back on flirting to avoid having a normal conversation?"  
"Says something about you that you don't think flirting is normal."  
"Then what's the real reason you keep flirting with me, Trevor?"  
His pleased expression didn't change, admiring her features. "Isn't it obvious? You're beautiful Dr. Allen. I don't need Robert Stack to figure that out."  
"Beautiful? That's all it's about? Nothing more than that?"  
"Sure. There's a lot more."  
"Yeah like what..." She asked with a pleasant smirk, looking away to enjoy the fresh air. "What deeper level of sophistication do you have..."  
"Well, you're hot too..."  
"Fine. I'll try to stay in the wading pool so as not to strain your emotional depths. On second thought, the wading pool's deeper. Ironically, you use flirting to distance yourself from people. Trevor, my point is that maybe you use flirting to push away the more important stuff. The real issues. The stuff that scares you which we need to address..."  
He nodded. "You're right. I've been closed minded. Maybe that little studded leather whip might be fun after all... Uhh-ohh. I'm picturing again... "  
"Trevor, all I'm saying is maybe for once you might consider not falling back on flir-"  
A woman's voice interrupted them from behind, calling out. "Trevor!"  
Turning they both watched as a highly attractive woman, tanned and blond, showing off her long legs in a short skirt, rushed up to him, laughing as she jumped into Trevor's surprised arms, nearly straddling him.  
Claire stepped stiffly back, leveling a cool gaze at the woman, trying not to feel annoyed at how deeply the woman hugged Trevor as he held her.  
"Umm..." Trevor seemed embarrassed. "That's a conversation starter if I ever saw one..." He glanced nervously over the woman's shoulder at Claire for a moment, before finally managing to extract himself from the woman's deep embrace.  
The woman looked at him, excitement in her blue eyes. "Trevor! Where have you been?"  
He looked over at Claire again, uncertain. "Umm... that's the million dollar question isn't it?"  
Claire's lips were a hard line, trying not to be affected by the woman's hands on manner with Trevor.  
The woman laughed. "Oh come on... Don't tell me you don't remember me."  
"Ok... I'll make sure not to tell you that."  
"Don't you remember? We met at Taggerty's. You introduced me to Rick?"  
Claire suddenly stepped forward and tried to interrupt, concerned about what the woman would say about Trevor's previous condition. "Excuse me, can I have a word with you for a second?" she asked quickly.  
Too excited to notice, the blond woman stepped even closer to Trevor if that were possible, giving him a soft flirty laugh. "Oh come on... You just HAVE to remember me. We had a lot of fun together..."  
Unexpectedly the woman's fingers slowly started grazing their way up Trevor's exposed arm. As the sensation coursed through him, Trevor caught his breath, trying not to jump in place. She was really good at that. Then he paused, awareness growing in his eyes, an answer finally coming to him.  
"Sally..." he said softly, finally remembering.  
"Yes!!" She bit her lip playfully, tilting her head with a girlish giggle. Beside her Claire tried not to throw up. "I was hoping you'd remember me..."  
Claire though about what had just happened, and a realization suddenly came to her, making her blink.  
Trevor seemed uncomfortable as Sally flirted with him in front of Claire, and he didn't know why. He kept glancing over at her watching, before coughing and speaking carefully. "Umm... sure. What can I do you for, Sally?"  
"You've done enough, Trevor. I have great news! Look..." She proudly lifted her hand into the light.  
"Wow..." Trevor's eyes widened. "Look at the size of that thing. That thing could blind passing satellites. Talk about owning a piece of the rock."  
Sally laughed happily, her diamond ring glittering brightly in the sun. "It's from Rick. You were right, Trevor. I never would have believed it, but you were right about us all along. We're engaged."  
"Guess I was..." Trevor still didn't understand. "But if you're no longer available, why should that make me happy?"  
She blinked, pausing. "Because you set the two of us up. I mean... don't you approve?"  
"Sure... Umm, yeah... if that matters..."  
"Of course it matters! It's all been so perfect, Trevor. Me and Rick. Just doing our own small part to get you home..."  
Claire had finally heard enough, abruptly stepping between them. "Bye Sally.." she said curtly  
She quickly led Trevor away, her arm around his shoulders as Sally was left blinking behind them at the interruption. Finally the woman turned and walked away.  
Glancing back over his shoulder as Claire hurried him along, Trevor still didn't understand. "What was that all about, Claire? Why should I approve of her getting married. And what did she mean by getting me home?"  
"It's nothing, Trevor. Just another buxom blond who's inhaled too many fumes from her tan in a can..." As they walked away, Claire still had one hand firmly on his forearm, making sure he didn't turn back.  
"Umm..." He looked down at where her fingers were draped across his skin. "...okay."  
Claire realized where he was looking and she quickly jerked her hand away, trying unsuccessfully not to make a big display of it.  
Trevor smiled at her. "So what's the deal with you jumping in and 'claiming' me back there?"  
Claire couldn't believe her ears. "Excuse me?"  
"With Must-tan Sally. She got all touchy and you yanked me out of there faster than Stevie Wonder at a nude archery contest. I mean, what's he going to shoot, what's he going to grab--"  
Claire scoffed. "I... I was NOT claiming you, Trevor."  
"What, couldn't handle the competition?"  
Her voice was level, trying not to look embarrassed. "There is no competition, Trevor."  
"I'll say. Maybe no one's told you, but do you know that you have a really phenomenal-"  
"_As_... I was saying, Trevor I stopped little miss pheromones back there because I came to a fairly significant conclusion. Something potentially important. You only remembered Sally's name when she started flirting with you."  
He didn't seemed concerned. "So?"  
Amused, Claire shook her head. "I should have seen this sooner, Trevor. Flirting makes you remember. It's what you know, it's what you knew, it's what's familiar to you..."  
Scoffing, Trevor crossed his arms, not buying it. "That's ridiculous..."  
"Is it?"  
Trevor was silent, giving her a stubborn look, not giving in. Claire decided to try a different tract.  
Slowly she slinked closer to him, flashing him a barely perceptible, seductive smile.  
Trevor watched her, not sure what she was doing.  
Her voice was warm and soft, full of yearning, like an eager moan of anticipation. "Ohhh Trevor... I'd really... and I mean, REALLY.... really like to be alone with you right now..." Trying to imitate Sally, she tilted her head like a bubbly coed as she grazed her fingers up Trevor's arm.  
Even though he realized what she was trying to do, Trevor still felt a little... overheated, his voice stammering. "Y-you and me alone? Umm, sure... Ok. Maybe this time we won't have to be sequestered." His eyes widened in surprise, wondering where those words had come from.  
Claire smiled triumphantly. "See? You remember us serving jury duty together." She laughed, thinking.  
"What's so funny?"  
"This. You! Flirting. Flirting makes you remember parts of your past. It's fitting!"  
"Hey-" Trevor stepped suggestively closer. "I enjoy a good long sweaty session of 'remembering' as much as any other guy. So what do you say? Maybe we can make some real progress and go remember in private. A little one on one all night cram session? An exploratory bumping of the... minds?"  
Claire pretended to think about it. "On the other hand, maybe you're just destined to be perpetually delusional, Trevor."  
"Oh come on! Try that little flirty thing you did again. You obviously thought the approach worked. I know it worked for me. On many..." He looked down for a moment. "...MANY levels."  
She looked at him skeptically for a moment, before reluctantly deciding to try again. "Ok..."  
This time wasn't so easy, and she suddenly felt self conscious, pausing since they both knew it was coming.   
"Umm, okay Trevor... Here it goes.... Umm..." Claire stepped stiffly forward, uncertain where to put her hands, stopping them in mid air before yanking them aside. She quickly tilted a hip, resting her hand there. "Ooohhh.... So, h-how are you big, big.... baby boy?" She spoke in a breathy overdone voice, lips twisting awkwardly when she realized that ridiculous phrase had come out of her mouth.  
Bewildered, Trevor looked away and blinked, mouthing the words 'big baby boy' to himself.  
Trying to shake it off, Claire forced herself to continue. "So...umm, yeah. Tell me. What was a hot studly muffin man like you like in high school." She bit her lip, trying to giggle softly like Sally had. "I'd really like to know..."  
He gazed at her blankly for a long moment. "...You REALLY need to work on you're flirting."  
Turning, Claire grunted in frustration, starting to walk off again.  
"Hey! Don't feel bad!" He teasingly called out after her. "Maybe we can get Sally back!"  
Watching her leave, Trevor non chalantly made sure she couldn't see him before he suddenly leaned over a nearby drinking fountain and quickly splashed himself, feeling warmer than usual, and not from the sunshine.  
"If only women knew how easy guys really are..." he said with a smile. Wiping his face with his hand, he went off to follow her.  
  
"You liked that didn't you?"  
"Liked what?" Claire asked, sipping at the straw of her soft drink.  
The two of them were sitting in the shade on a park bench, facing each other as they ate some food they had bought from a hot dog vendor. Or rather, the food Claire had bought since Trevor had instantly decided it was her treat. People still moved and relaxed behind them in the sunshine, but they were in the cool of the trees as a soft breeze blew over them.  
Trevor's mouth was full of hot dog as he spoke, trying to keep the overly high pile of toppings on top. "Flirting. I know it was all just an act, but I could tell. You're a lot more sensual than you let on. There's a little leather under your lace. The flirting stuff. You enjoyed doing it. Maybe because you don't do it often enough."  
Still sipping her drink, she looked at him. "Why would you possibly think that, Trevor?"  
Trevor turned his gaze out to everyone in the park, still chewing, before he finally looked back at her. "I just see it in you. You act reserved, this proper professional type with no embarrassing _pubic_ displays of affection, and yes I said that right. But that's why you enjoyed what you did so much. You're more wild than you show, but you never let yourself loosen up..."  
She shook her head with a smile. "All that from a simple lunch in the park..."  
"Sure. Would it sound more credible if I sat you in an office and charged you by the hour?" He took another bite of his piled-high hot dog. "I mean, it doesn't take that long to pin down someone. Why? How long does it take an expert like you. How long did you say you've been treating me again?"  
"You haven't figured me out, Trevor." Claire smiled.  
He nodded, looking down as he chewed. "Sure I have."  
"Really... Ok, what profound insight have you discovered?"  
"That you don't want to talk about him."  
"Who?" Claire paused, wondering where he was going with this.  
"The person who put that ache in your eyes, Claire. The ache that won't go away. The person you want to be with, but won't let yourself be with. The person you're scared of being with. And scared of being without. I don't know who he is, but he's a bastard for hurting you like this. I say dump him. Get rid of him. Move on. Get over him by getting under the next warm male body. You have so much more to give than that bozo deserves, if you ever let yourself do it. Admit it. You enjoyed the flirting, the open displays of 'check me out'. Because deep down it's what you've always wanted to do... if you weren't so afraid that someone might actually want to get closer and therefore potentially hurt you someday. You're afraid of opening up, Claire. Of lowering your guard."  
Claire was quiet, her voice a little harder and curt. "This coming from a man who refuses to face his past..."  
"I can't face my past because I don't remember, remember?"  
"Right..." She didn't sound convinced. "So tell me, Trevor. Open up. What was you're childhood like?"  
"I don't know... I remember bumping my head."  
"Bumping your head?"  
"Yeah. I don't remember why. Or where. But I remember I kept bumping my head."  
Reluctantly, Claire nodded, accepting it. "That's a start, I suppose..."  
Looking over, she realized he was biting into his precariously stacked hot dog with unabashed zeal. Then she noticed something. "Umm... Trevor..."  
"What..." He looked up at her, some of the hot dog topping falling from his mouth.  
"Sauerkraut." She pointed to it. "You hate sauerkraut."  
He blinked. "No I don't..."  
"Yes... You do. You despise it."  
"Really?"  
"Umm-hmm."  
"Huh..." He looked down at the hot dog he had been eating for a moment, seeing it in a new light. But then he shrugged and devoured it anyway, smiling as he chewed. "I guess people can change..."  
She nodded hopefully, smiling with him. "I guess so..."  
"You hold it all in, but..." he looked at her. "Maybe you can change too..."  
Claire held his gaze pleasantly for a moment, but said nothing as she looked away.  
  
Their steps were slow as they walked down one of the park's sidewalks, their conversation easy and relaxed, feeling quiet and comfortable with each other after their long talk.  
"So Trevor. Do you remember the hospital where you were born? Or where you went to school? Anything? Do you remember your parents at all? Where they lived?"  
"No," Trevor said honestly, watching the sidewalk pass languidly beneath both their feet. "Not really..."  
"Do you think you liked your parents?" she asked.  
"I suppose... as much as any other kid, I guess. I get the feeling they didn't agree very much."  
"What about yourself, Trevor." She looked over at him, curious. "What do you think about yourself, knowing what you know so far. Do you like what you see?"  
He shrugged. "I'm not so bad, I guess. Friendly enough. I seem to like people."  
Claire smiled to herself. "That's an understatement."  
He looked at her for a moment. "It's funny, Claire. You keep giving such meaning to everything I say. A meaning I don't know about. Like we're sharing a private joke that I haven't been let in on. I hope I do start remembering, so that I'll be in on the joke too."  
She blinked. "Do you mean everything and not just what I know? Like the ordinary person you were before we met? Your whole past, good and bad?"  
He glared at her pointedly. "I'm not a plebe you know. I see what you're doing. You think something happened to me. Something that made me the way I was before. That's what you're really after."  
"Maybe." she said non-committally. "Before I met you Trevor, something caused you to reject yourself. That same something might not be letting you remember now."  
"And might also makes me want to flirt everything away, right? Some sort of romantic trauma that made me re-invent myself? Made me turn myself into someone else? Am I getting close to your theory, Doctor Allen?" He spoke simply, not as a question.  
"You said it, Trevor. Not me. I don't know the specifics." She looked down, still walking slowly. Suddenly her voice sounded reluctant. "Do you... do you think you've ever been in love?"  
"Why would I. Personally never needed it..." He shook his head, voice sober.  
She looked at him in surprise, wondering which Trevor had meant that, the real one, or the delusion. She spoke softly. "Everybody needs love..."  
"Sure it's great for everyone else, but it's never really applied to me. Maybe I'm not meant for love, so why bother you know? I mean, considering..."  
"Considering what? What's wrong with love, Trevor?"  
"The usual. Who wants to devote their lives to the pursuit of love? Face it. Love's messy, it's awkward, it gets in the way. It drives away your family, your friends, your freedom... And then it just leaves you open for that inevitable rejection and broken heart."  
"Sometimes..." she agreed. "But sometimes it's more than that. There must have been someone in your past who hurt you, who made you want to forget the good parts. Made you want to run away from love even now..."  
He grunted, exasperated. "If I did have a past like that, a past that messed me up so much, why would you want me to go back to it?" Sadly he looked out over the park at all the people, all the couples around the two of them, together in the sunlight, as if he would never have that.  
Claire looked at him as they walked. "Because the bad parts aren't the whole story. Love also gives so much, Trevor. Love gives so much to a person. It gives happiness and hope. And strength. And courage. When you fall in love, I mean really fall, you not only end up loving another person, but yourself too. Loving the way that person makes you feel, and the way you make him feel. Two people. Sharing a life. Opening their hearts to each other, without fear. Unconditionally..."  
He looked at her for a moment, before he chuckled at her words. "Wow... You sound pretty convinced..."  
Claire looked at him fondly. "I had a good teacher."  
"An impassioned opinion like that," Trevor smiled, nodding to himself. "A little ironic coming from you, isn't it?"  
"Why would you think that?"  
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, curious. "You keep asking me how I feel about myself. How do you feel about yourself, Claire?"  
"I..." she paused for a moment. "... I feel fine about myself, Trevor."  
"Do you? Do you really?"  
"Of... of course I do."  
"So what's in your past, Dr. Allen? Who caused that sadness you hope no one finds? That sadness you even try to hide from yourself."  
"I'm not hiding, Trevor." A soft breeze blew through her hair, her voice harder as she threw his own phrase back at him. "That's ironic coming from you, isn't it?"  
He didn't seem offended, looking down as they walked. "Then why are you holding back, Claire?"  
"Holding back?"  
"Sure. Always proper and reserved, afraid what people might think, when what you should be doing is getting out there and grabbing life by the-" he cupped his hand.  
"Not... that it's something you can relate to," she interrupted, "but I'm perfectly happy with who I am."  
He smiled at her, non-plussed. "No you're not..."  
"I-... I-... " Claire stammered, unsure how to argue against the conviction in his voice. She exhaled, changing what she was going to say. "And I'm not as reserved as you think."  
"Prove it."  
Trevor quickly scanned the park, looking over all the people enjoying the afternoon around them. He spotted a man and a woman relaxing on a blanket in the sunshine nearby.   
"Come on, Claire."  
"Trevor, whatever you're-"  
"Come on!" He said happily, moving over to the couple. Reluctantly, Claire followed him.  
He stepped right up to the woman laying on her back, sunning herself before him.  
"Hi..." Trevor said pleasantly. "You don't know me, which ironically makes two of us. But can you help me out with something?"  
The woman looked dubious, glancing over at her boyfriend lying next to her, before looking back up at Trevor. "I've... got pepper spray."  
"No, I don't need a condiment, thanks. I was just wondering if you could help me with a little experiment. Can you turn that up? A whole whole lot?" Trevor motioned to the radio that was playing on the blanket between them.  
"Umm... Okay..." Still feeling a little uncertain, the young woman turned up the music until it was heard clearly, filling the air all around them, the lyrics ringing out as the song began.  
  
_Desperate for changing, _  
  
"Thanks." Trevor turned back to Claire, rubbing his hands in anticipation. "Okay, little miss PHD. Let's see what you've got."  
Trevor spread his arms wide in invitation to her, waiting.  
  
_ Starving for truth,_  
  
Her lips parted, scoffing when she realized what he wanted. "You've got to be kidding..."  
"No, I'm Trevor. I think... Come on. Let's dance."  
  
_I'm closer to where I started, _   
  
"Here?" she asked  
"No, the spring social for dance club wannabes. Of course here! What's wrong? Feeling a little reserved, Dr. Allen?"  
  
_I'm chasing after you... _  
  
"Trevor, I..." She looked around at all the people in plain view across the crowded park. "This isn't very doctor-patient. I'm not just going to start dancing in front of a bunch complete strangers-"  
"There's a clinical term for that, Claire. Homely ass repression. Come on! What's the big deal. It's easy. Look..."  
Trevor started dancing enthusiastically, right there in front of her without any shame. His arms flailed back and forth in unabashedly jerky movements as he bounced and swayed in place, head bouncing like a mad man, not caring who was watching even though he looked completely idiotic doing it.  
  
_I'm falling even more in love with you,_  
  
Claire couldn't help but almost smile.  
"Trevor... you look pretty ridiculous. Did you forget how to dance too? Why does the image of a kangaroo having seizures come to mind..."  
  
_Letting go of all I've held on to..._  
  
The critique didn't bother him. "It would have to be one hell of a sexy kangaroo. Why don't you join in? Come on Sparky. Maybe we'll spark a memory or two. Preferably something of the naked variety. How about easing up on the questions and analysis. You can plan for the future, but you can only live in the moment. Just let loose and let all those marvelous body parts of yours fly. Who cares what people think..."  
He was still throwing his arms wildly, jerking back and forth as more people started to watch.  
  
_I'm standing here until you make me move,  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you..._  
  
Claire started feeling the growing number of eyes that were on them. "Trevor, we shouldn't. I'm-I'm not-"  
"Sure you are. They're already watching you anyway."  
Without warning Trevor swept her into his arms, spinning her around in time with the music. Claire caught her breath, not expecting that as they spun faster.   
"Trevor, wait... Trevor!"  
  
_Forgetting all I'm lacking,  
completely incomplete,_  
  
Finally she laughed, feeling him twirl her around as the sky and sunlight glittered through the leaves above, whirling over their heads in the afternoon air as Trevor held her in his arms.  
  
_I'll take your invitation, you take all of me..._  
  
Eventually she was standing alone as Trevor spun away on the grass and continued to dance wildly on his own. More and more people were noticing now, and some of them gathered to watched them, making her pause.  
"Oh... hell with it." she whispered.  
  
_I'm falling even more in love with you,  
letting go of all I've held on to,_  
  
With that Claire made a few tiny dance steps, her movements small and unassuming. She finally found a semblance of rhythm under the weight of all the curious stares, but she was dancing demurely and feeling a little self conscious, not used to being the only one dancing, singled out.  
"Pathetic..." Trevor commented with a smile. "Here, doctor lady. Let your freak flag fly. Take a leap with the living..."  
  
_I'm standing here until you make me move,  
hanging by a moment here with you..._  
  
He grabbed her arms and started tossing them forcefully up into the air in exaggerated motions, before reaching down to quickly rock her hips back and forth between his hands. Claire laughed, his guidance barely letting her stay on her feet without falling down. All the while Trevor never stopped dancing, circling around her as her inhibitions started to ebb, caught up in his enthusiasm. Finally with a smile she let it all go, hair flying everywhere as she threw her arms back and started dancing wildly up and down, just as exaggerated as Trevor was. The world spun. The sky glowed. Her body moved, tingling... and free.  
  
_There's nothing left to lose,  
there's nothing else to find..._  
  
The music continued, loud and driving them forward. The sparse crowd slowly grew larger and gathered around, looking at them with amusement. A few of the less inhibited among them started dancing on their own at the back. But neither Trevor or Claire cared, too caught up in the simple joy of motion, exertion, and bodies twisting and jumping, caught up in the sensation of living, breathing, reinforced with each enthusiastic move, giving in to the dance fully.  
  
_There's nothing in the world,  
that could change my mind,  
There is nothing else..._   
  
Out of breath, Trevor finally stopped as the song played on. Breathing heavily, he watched Claire instead. She was dancing in her own little world, spinning and moving enthusiastically without fear, not even noticing that he had stopped, lost in the music. He couldn't take his eyes off her, amazed as he watched her dance. She was so beautiful, so vibrant and alive. The sun was bright on her face, her smile was full and happy, her hair flying everywhere around her. He didn't know what he was feeling, or why. But he knew he liked it.  
  
_I'm falling even more in love with you,  
Letting go of all I held onto..._  
  
An older woman who was still watching Claire came closer, stepping up beside him and speaking to Trevor quietly. "You two make a beautiful couple..."  
He blinked at the woman, wondering why she had said that. In the end he said nothing, watching Claire again with a smile.  
  
_I'm living for the only thing I know,  
I'm running and not quite sure where to go,_  
  
Finally Claire slowed too, halting to catch her breath, her hair frazzled and falling in front of her smiling, panting face in the sunshine. Her eyes sparkled like she was a kid again, as she happily took in the expression on Trevor's face as he gazed at her.  
"What?" she asked.  
  
_And I don't know what I'm diving into,  
just hanging by a moment here with you..._   
  
He nodded, satisfied. "Nothing. Just that this feels familiar somehow. Us. Dancing like this. I remember a name now. Who's Jack Conathan?"  
That sobered Claire a little bit as the music began to fade. "Umm... No one. Just an old friend of mine. I'm surprised you remembered him. You never met him."  
"I remembered it just now for some reason."  
She smiled enigmatically. "Then I guess it's more than just flirting that makes you remember."  
"Guess so. See... you were wrong, Claire. Other things were more important to me after all..." He watched her with a smile. "I don't remember a lot. I remember you dancing in the sun, close to me. Holding you in my arms, dancing on the grass. We were next to a stone pillar or something..."  
She didn't know how to feel, having hoped for something from a little further back, but touched that she was the first thing he was able to remember. "Well, that's something."  
Still panting slightly from their exertion, he looked at her. "He's not the one, though."  
"The one?"  
"The idiot who hurt you. That's somebody else..."  
"Trevor, I-... I think it's time we got back to the office..."  
"Sure." He turned to the woman who had been watching them from her blanket. "Thanks for the music..."  
"No problem..." she replied good naturedly, amused at the show.  
Trevor and Claire walked together through the ring of on-lookers that had circled in close to watch, stepping onto the sidewalk and moving away. As they headed out of the park the sunlight fell warmly onto their shoulders. Behind them the crowd began to disperse, but a few remained behind, dancing to the next song that came on the radio.  
Trevor was still watching Claire with a smile. "Don't worry, Claire. I'll figure you out yet."  
She leaned in close, feeling comfortable with him as she playfully bumped her shoulder into his and threw him off step. "You have that backwards, Trevor. I'm the one who'll figure you out."  
"We'll see." Throwing a leg forward, he tried to trip her steps in a playful way, but she easily stepped around it with a smile. As they walked further away their words were softer.  
"So how did I look back there, Claire?"  
She chuckled. "Asinine."  
"Thanks." Leaning back, he took a peek at her. "Yours is a ten..."  
"I could use a hot shower, Trevor."  
"Believe me, Claire. Any shower you take would be hot..."  
Their voices finally began to fade into the distance as they walked side by side in the sunlight, growing smaller as together they left the park behind.  
  
Claire felt content as she walked across her living room, still caught up in the warm afterglow she felt from her afternoon with Trevor. The interior of her house was softly lit by the day's fading light. Claire sighed, starting to relax, winding down for the remainder of the day. She was dressed in some comfortable sweats after a quick shower, having been eager to get out of her work clothes. Her hair was still wet, and she dried it off with a towel as she smiled, realizing she couldn't stop thinking about Trevor, and their day in the park.  
It had felt so good to do that, to spend that time with him, regardless of the circumstances. Even with his memory loss, it was just what she had needed after her long search for him, just being with him. There was a glow in her face which she couldn't deny, and she had to admit... that she felt happier than she had in months.  
As Claire passed her television, she absently turned it on, its screen brightening behind her, tuned in to a cable news channel. It displayed an image of a pretty brunette who was droning on about the day's news. Claire wasn't really listening anyway, not paying attention as she walked to the other side of her living room, tossing her towel aside and humming to herself as she moved towards her desk.  
"I"m falling even more in love with you..." she sang softly, not realizing that she was doing it.  
Looking down, she gazed absently at her laptop computer. Beside it, her quickly scribble notes from today's session with Trevor were clearly visible on the notebook laying on the desk. She had planned to organize and expand on her notes later on tonight when she entered them into Trevor's file. But now, as she thought pleasantly about what had happened, she wondered how much of it she would be able to convey, at least in any adequate way.  
With a smile Claire sat eagerly down, realizing she couldn't wait until later, not wanting to lose the moment, or what she was feeling right now, still close to the experience of their time together and feeling warm and content.  
Pressing the power switch, her computer screen winked on as the television set still droned on in the background on the other side of the room. Claire leaned happily forward as her fingers settled over the keyboard and she began to type. The line of words flowed smoothly onto her display as she tried to capture the sensations moving through her in some sort of useful, coherent way.  
  
_I had my first session with Trevor today.  
As was to be expected, there was a momentary awkwardness to the new circumstances we found ourselves in, but it seemed to pass quickly. Our interactions still hold an ease and comfort level to them which I did not anticipate, considering everything... It surprised me. And true to form, even without his memory Trevor seemed to cope well, acclimating and adapting to the situation quickly. This is wholly consistent with characteristic's Trevor has exhibited in the past, suggesting that his core memory is still there, submerged. It is obvious from my observations that his aptitudes and affability have in no way been diminished. He is still as manipulative as ever. Trevor quickly managed to steer our session more to his liking, opting for the openness of the park and foregoing the perceived limitations of my office, which may reveal a subconscious reluctance, or perhaps familiarity, with the trappings of conventional therapeutic methods beyond what we shared before. Though I did give him some leniency on the issue, this ability to adapt still bodes well for Trevor's eventual recovery, perhaps even beyond his previous delusion. It was encouraging, even if in this case I felt like the one who was being steered.  
  
_ Claire thought for a moment, looking at the screen quietly. She tried to examine what had happened, and to judge the significance to Trevor's situation, before she continued.  
  
_My only disappointment was that the fragments of memory Trevor was able to recover were only focused primarily on my time with him and not on his more distant experiences. While I didn't gain any substantial new knowledge of his past, I felt it was a promising beginning, regardless. On many levels...   
  
_ As Claire paused again, she thought about what she had written. The house was silent and empty around her except for the television still droning across the living room. As she read her words, they didn't seem complete. They didn't do Trevor justice, or express what she truly felt. Thinking about him, a warm flush passed through her and she smiled. Maybe Trevor was right, and she should really open up, be honest with what she was feeling. Maybe she didn't have to hide her feelings away anymore.  
Still looking at her screen, she started typing again, this time not second guessing herself, trying to be completely open and honest.  
  
_On a personal note, I was amazed at how easily Trevor and I fell into our old dynamics and rapport, even though from his perspective at least, we're complete strangers. The affect his charm has on me hasn't changed. Pigheaded and stubborn as always, he still has the same innate qualities which make people like him, and I'm as susceptible as any. Perhaps even more so. Our relationship has always remained doctor-patient, but it has always been something more as well, which I have never openly admitted before. Trevor has a way of winning people over, and I guess he won me over a long time ago.  
There's no doubt that Trevor still needs help. But I find that there is a fine line which I'm walking. A line between the delusional man I knew and missed, and the emotionally resolved man I still hope to turn him into. A line between the man I have deep substantial feelings for, and the man Trevor needs to be. That line seems hazier ever day. Can I continue his treatment without personal bias? Without him slipping into his delusion again because, in some way, that's what I really want? I wonder... Yet no matter how much better a normal, cured Trevor would be, it is the delusional man which I miss most. The one I need the most.  
Trying not to overstate it, Trevor makes my heart... soar, when I'm with him. Ok, that overstated it. But it's true. I was afraid these feelings meant I would have no place in his recuperation, and maybe they do. But it's ironic that those same feelings are the tether that is bringing his old life back. But which life? The usefulness of the connection between me and Trevor is undeniable, as is the danger of that very connection causing a relapse into his previous delusion. Should I mold him back into the man he was before because that's who I miss, at the expense of getting better? Is that selfish? Or right? SHould I tell him who he was? How we felt about each other?  
What if Trevor was really okay the way he was before? So what if he thinks he's Cupid... What's the harm in embracing love, in trying to find love for others, and in maybe finding it for himself? Is that so wrong? Is that really what we should call delusional? Every clinical part of me says yes, but my heart still says something else.  
Because somehow, clinical concerns don't seem to matter right now. Not above what we feel about each other. Or could feel about each other again. I was the one who was supposed to heal him, but maybe he's the one healing me. I don't know if I should be writing this, being so honest with what is actually happening, chronicling what I feel as a person and not a doctor. Revealing so openly that I've fallen. Fallen in love with Trevor. Long before even I realized it. Even today, I can't stop falling. And I'm no longer so sure that I want to.  
I never truly envisioned a realistic future for me and Trevor. But for the first time today, I allowed myself to wonder, to envision just what that future might be like. To imagine what our lives would be if I just gave in to my heart. Or if we gave in to each other. But is that wish for Trevor's betterment or my own? I don't know. But today... I believed. That maybe it is possible for us to someday be together. I know it's not the most professional of responses. But it is human. And for the first time in what seems a long time, I've found something. Something I never thought I would find.  
Hope..._  
  
Claire read it again softly, before her eyes widened in disbelief when she realized she had actually written that into Trevor's case file. It was insane. She couldn't write that! Even if it all was true, she knew she couldn't let any one read it.  
Then she thought about that possibility too.  
"So what if they do..." Claire laughed, not believing that she was actually considering this. Her face brightened as she thought about Trevor, swimming in what she was feeling. She almost felt like standing and dancing on the spot, spreading her arms out to a world of possibilities in that one shining moment. Maybe it really could work.  
The television was still droning coldly at the edge of Claire's hearing. Then something the anchor woman was saying caught her attention and she looked over from her laptop, listening to the news story that was being reported.  
The pretty announcer was bracketed on one side by the image of an older professional looking man. As Claire started to pick up on the details of the news story, her face fell.  
  
_"And in New York City today, rumors continue of possible allegations of misconduct against one of the city's pre-eminent psychologists, Dr. Humphrey Martin. While no official sources have elaborated on the allegations, it is believed that Dr. Martin is being investigated by an ethics board for unprofessional conduct, stemming from several claims that he may have been having sexual relations with several of his female patients, including the wife of a prominent politician. The allegations have caused a scandal in the city's psychiatric community. While not inherently illegal, the conduct is considered a severe breach of ethics, especially on the scope of which has been alleged in Dr. Martin's case. A spokesman for the city's psychiatric oversight board is quoted as saying that 'If true, this is a blatant abuse of position and an obvious conflict of interest. The doctor patient relationship is sacrosanct and should never be tainted for personal ends by the power and suggestion a professional therapist has over his patients.' While declining further comment, the spokesman confirmed that they are looking into the allegations as they consider whether professional censure and dismissal might be appropriate once they investigate the matter. Dr. Humphrey Martin was unavailable for comment today.... And now for the day's sports news. The city's top free agent has finally signed with--"_  
  
Claire slowly pulled back in shock, thinking about what she had just heard. Her eyes looked frightened as they read over the report she had just written, and all that she admitted in it about how she felt about Trevor. Suddenly her certainty from a moment ago was gone, and her honest approach no longer seemed like such a good idea.  
Without saying a word, Claire slowly stood up. With a sad look on her face she turned off her computer without saving any of her work, her screen going dark before she finally walked away into the rest of her empty house, the elation she had felt long gone.  
  


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	3. finding pg 03

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The light of a new morning sun was glowing brightly through the small opaque window in Trevor's bathroom as he slowly stepped out of the shower. His body was naked, skin glistening with water as he stood there for a moment. before he grabbed a towel from the rack. He started to dry his face, obscuring his vision.  
Trevor pulled the towel down with a pleased grunt and shook his shoulders, invigorated by his morning shower. His face was still wet and dripping. Pausing, he looked somberly down at his chest. After a moment his hand came slowly up to gently touch the small round scar tissue in the middle of his breastbone. Trevor's brow furrowed as he examined it, feeling the hard circle of healed skin there, smooth under his fingers.  
"Wonder how I got that..." he said softly to himself, thinking.  
Trevor shook the question off, accepting that it would all come back to him eventually. With a contented sigh, he started to wrap the towel he was holding around his waist, just about to secure it firmly, when a woman's face suddenly appeared over his shoulder.  
"Morning, Trevor." Allison said with a smile before stepping back.  
Trevor scrambled frantically to cover himself, startled by her abrupt appearance there with him in his semi naked condition. He quickly backed up, his wet footing slipping on the tiles, trying to stay on his feet. The towel around his waist slipped and twisted under his hands as he tried to reposition it, the loose fabric almost falling down off his wet body.  
Stepping away, Allison didn't seem to notice that he was virtually naked, squirming nervously behind her. She was a petite attractive woman, dark blond and curvy, wearing a form fitting white sleeveless tank top and sweats. The snug shirt exposed a generous portion of her smooth, tanned stomach. Her face was bright and happy as she walked over to the sink, unconcerned and totally at ease.  
Trevor blinked. "D-Did you need something?"  
"No..." Going about her business, Allison smiled at him as she squeezed past his body again. "You didn't lock the door. So I guessed you wouldn't mind me seeing you naked. Why? I am correct in assuming you like it when _women_... see you naked, aren't I?"  
"I don't know. Do--" Trevor stammered. "Do you _like_... being the woman to see me naked?"  
She angled her head, eyes glinting playfully at him. "All depends on what I see. Would you like it if I liked it?"  
Trevor blinked. "Would.. you like it if I liked it that you liked it?"  
Trying to follow where they were in the exchange, Allison paused thinking over it. "Wait, is your head spinning too? Because we're talking in circles here..."  
Trevor nodded. "Right. I've always preferred communicating in parallelograms."  
Standing in the small bathroom next to each other, the two of them went silent as they watched each other, trying to piece it together.  
"Trevor... what just happened?" Allison looked at him.  
He shrugged. "Testing the water. Two people feeling each other out... Without feeling each other up."  
With a smile Allison nodded and turned back to the sink. Their bodies continued to shift position in the small space with each step, sometimes close, and sometimes closer as Allison went through her morning routine. She grabbed her toothbrush and a tube of paste. Trevor's body was still clenched stiffly as he stood there penned in close, wearing only a loose towel, pressed flush against the wall opposite the door. In that small room, he knew he couldn't leave without brushing rather intimately past her. Allison's reflection in the mirror smiled at him, not seeming to notice his discomfort as she rinsed her toothbrush under the water from the faucet. "It's a beautiful morning, Trevor. I was up on the roof. Watching the sun rise. You ever do that?"  
"Umm... no..." He wasn't really listening, still working frantically to secure the towel around his hips, trying to tie it around his waist. His attempts weren't very successful and he had to constantly jerk the towel back up as it slipped down in one spot then another, shifting from place to place.  
"Oh you should..." Oblivious to his troubles, Allison continued, putting toothpaste on her brush. "Seeing a new day born. It cleanses the soul..."  
Hands still gripping his downward slipping towel, Trevor decided to go completely still, hoping that would keep it in place. Trying to appear non-chalant he leaned back against the wall. Allison's well shaped body was close to his, well within reach. Curious, Trevor leaned forward for a quick moment. He could almost smell her perfume. She turned to face him by the sink and his shoulders stiffened back on to the wall again, water dripping down his forehead.  
Her eyes glittered, amused. "So. Remember me yet?"  
"No..."  
She flashed him a wide, instantly infectious smile as her features lit up. "Good. We never met until you came back. See, your memory's getting better already..."  
He nodded. "If you can call not remembering, remembering."  
"Sure. Especially when there's nothing to remember."  
Turning she leaned forward over the sink again, her face closer to the mirror as she started to brush her teeth. She didn't see Trevor's towel accidentally slip down his left hip behind her before he yanked it quickly back up. Trevor's back was still plastered against the wall, knowing any step forward would almost certainly bring his body in contact with hers. Not to mention what it would do to keeping his towel in place.  
Allison rinsed her mouth with water before brushing again, still facing the bathroom mirror. "Lucky for you I still needed a roommate. When I moved in, I thought I'd be living here with you. But then you ran off and I was all ready to get a new roommate. But Champ insisted I leave your room open. He even kept paying your half of the rent even though you weren't here. Never seen Champ so adamant about something. I know he never paid _my_ half of the rent when we were roomies in school. Still, he's a good guy. We go way back. I've known him since we took acting classes together. He told me to leave your room free. Because somehow.... he always knew you'd come back..."  
Allison was brushing her teeth again. Trevor looked past the small of her back to the bathroom door, feeling trapped on his side of the small space. He thought of making a break for it, but he didn't think he could, not without losing his grip over the towel he barely had draped over him.  
"So how are you adjusting?" Allison was still facing the mirror, brushing her teeth.  
"Adjusting?"  
"Yeah. To coming back. To me being your new roommate. Not remembering anything about your past. All that."  
"Umm..." Suddenly Trevor's gaze dropped slightly lower as he looked down at her figure. His hair was still dripping wet, plastered against his forehead as his lips parted. Allison was bent slightly forward over the sink, her body making all sort of enticing curves from head to toe. The small white tank top bared her tanned midriff, clinging firmly yet gently to her. The grey sweatpants she was wearing seemed to inadvertently emphasize her shape even more in all the right places. As Allison brushed her teeth, her body swayed slightly with every stroke. Even though Trevor knew she was not doing it intentionally, he had never seen a more arousing act of tooth brushing in his life.... at least that he could remember of course.  
"Uhh..." He repeated absently, before he swallowed, his body shifting awkwardly as he tried to cross his legs under the towel. "Well, some things has been... harder than others."  
"Really?" She was genuinely curious. "Like what?"  
Finished at the sink, she turned to him with a smile. That white shirt sure did emphasize the smoothness of her tanned stomach. Trevor felt his towel become less concealing by the moment.  
Allison seemed amused, as if she sensed his thoughts. But she pushed it away, lightly trying to force a neutral expression onto her face. "Like what. Living with a girl?"  
"Sorta..." Trevor shook his head no as if denying it, but as he did he said "Yeah... actually. Yes."  
She laughed. "Just like living with a guy. Or with Champ. I'm no different. Don't worry, I'm pretty open. Beer binges, belching contests, sports channels, pizza cartons on the floor... I don't mind all the typical guy stuff. Usually I get along with just about everyone. I've found it's just better to let people be themselves, so that they're honest with each other. For instance... right now you're picturing what it would be like to have sex with me aren't you?"  
Sputtering, Trevor tried to back up, having no place to go. His words didn't sound very convincing even to him. "What? No..."  
Allison didn't seem to mind, turning to the mirror again as she combed her hair. Trevor did his best not to notice her body again, swaying with each brush stroke. Allison continued, unconcerned. "Don't worry, Trevor. Men are visual creatures. I understand that. Believe me, I figured that one out a long time ago. That doesn't mean we're automatically going to end up in bed together..."  
Leaning closer to the mirror, she suddenly felt the need to catch her breath, after seeing Trevor's wet muscles glisten past his towel. With a smile she spoke softly to herself. "Doesn't mean we won't either..."  
Behind her, Trevor didn't hear her, now trying to stiffly walk sideways past her, his spine plastered against the wall. She saw him in the mirror and whirled around, stopping him in his tracks. Grinning, she stepped imperceptibly closer in the already tight space, giving him a long, warm look.  
"Loosen up a little, Trevor. Don't be wound so... tight. Just pretend I'm a guy."  
Amused, Trevor exhaled in acknowledgement. "With better curves than any guy I've ever seen..."  
"Oh I don't know about that..." She looked into his eyes, leaning even closer. Then she took a long, unabashed glance down at his wet, muscular body next to hers, and at the small inadequate towel between them, before looking up again. "Don't sell yourself... _short_, Trevor."  
Smiling as if she didn't have a care in the world, she brushed her body past his, leaving the bathroom before he did. "I'll get used to your quirks, Trevor. You'll get used to mine..."  
"Quirks? Like what?" As he watched her walk away, her arms crossed in front of her, out of view.  
Suddenly the white tank top she had been wearing hit him in the face and instinctively Trevor reached up to catch it with both hands, his vision obscured. The towel wrapped around his waist instantly dropped onto the floor when he let it go, leaving him standing there naked from head to toe. He caught a glimpse of Allison's slender exposed back as she left, but she didn't turn around, disappearing around the corner.  
She called out. "Quirks like I'm next in the shower!"   
Trevor frantically bent down and grabbed his towel from the floor once he realized he was completely naked. Wrapping it around again, he tied it firmly off for the most part. But he could feel it slipping again. He had to get some clothes on. But how could he leave with Allison out there walking around without any... Keeping his eyes pointedly on the apartment floor, he made a dash for his bedroom, before finally losing the towel again. As it dropped, his feet caught onto each other and he tumbled down, sprawled on the floor.  
  
Later that morning, Trevor eagerly sprinted towards the reception desk outside of Claire's office, speeding up because he knew exactly who would be waiting there for him.  
And she was. Jaclyn was all smiles when she looked up at him sitting behind her desk, happy to see him.  
"Good morning, Trevor!"  
"Good morning..." Leaning towards her over the desk, he lifted an eyebrow, giving her a long seductive look as his voice a lowered to a husky moan. "_Jaclyn_."  
She giggled. "You look clean..."  
"Oh, but my mind's dirty. Very very dirty. You have no idea. I'm always looking for that next sponge bath volunteer, if your interested. Which brings me to something I've been meaning to ask you..."  
She blinked at him. "What..."  
He leaned even closer, giving her a seductive smile. "Jackie. Cutie... Since I've forgotten so many great things, I just got to know. Before I bludgeoned my melon, did you and I.... I mean, have you and I ever... you know..."  
"Know?" Jaclyn didn't understand.  
Trevor stared warmly at her, his gaze steady.  
Finally she got it. "Know? No! I mean... " Jaclyn giggled, giving him a cute, coy smile. "No... Trevor."  
Playful, he slowly nodded with regret at that fact, smiling at her. "Wow. Hard to believe. Hard to believe.... You sure?"  
Jaclyn almost seemed flushed, as if lingering in the image. "Oh yeah..."  
He looked at her for a moment. "Then Claire must have been right. There really was something wrong with me."  
Smiling to herself, Jaclyn looked down, hoping she wasn't blushing too much. There was a flirty glint in her eye when she looked up at him again. "Without a doubt..."  
Beside them the door to Claire's office clicked open and they both looked over as she stepped out.  
"Oh, you're here..." Claire said.  
Trevor quickly stepped over to her.  
"Yes I am!" He announced proudly.  
"Oh that's... great." She wasn't matching his enthusiasm. "Congratulations, Trevor. I'll alert the media about that exceptional accomplishment and maybe you can win a Pulitzer for punctuality."  
"And also all the awards for amazing alliteration?"  
"Right, Trevor. That's assuming of course that no one comes along to wake you up and ruin the whole thing..."  
He ignored her. "Claire, I'm starting to remember things. Lots more details, all the time... Some really, really good stuff. For instance, last night while I slept--"  
Claire moaned skeptically, her voice soft. "Oh this should be good."  
Trevor continued. "While I was sleeping, I think I had what might be my first honest to god 'real' memory. But... I'll have to see you naked to confirm it."  
She walked past him with a tiny smile. "You're not seeing me naked, Trevor."  
He blinked. "Well I didn't mean _exclusively_..."  
Claire crossed her arms. "Trevor you'll just have to be satisfied with the absolute certainty that all of us are naked under our clothes..."  
He nodded. "Yeah, but you're just so much better at it than most..."  
She decided to change the subject. "So your new roommate. Allison. How's she working out, Trevor?"  
Jaclyn spoke up from her desk. "Yeah, I'm sorry I stole your old roommate away, Trevor. You know, with Champ and I living together and all..."  
"Hey..." He looked over at her behind the desk. "That's perfectly fantastic. I mean, why not. Two people falling in love. Shacking up. Living in sin. And lots of it, I hope. Like I told our friend the good doctor here, for most everyone else in the world, love's a good thing. I like it. Looks good on you. In fact, if you two hadn't hooked up, I might have tried to push you together myself..."  
Claire's face went blank for a moment, but she decided to ignore that. "Umm... so are you getting along with Allison, Trevor?"  
"Sure, Allison's fine. Emphasis on 'fine'. Except she does have this one annoying habit of walking around naked, but other than that she's-"  
Startled Claire blinked, taken back. "E-Excuse me?"  
Trevor smiled at her. "Her birthday suit is definitely still in style."  
Jaclyn smiled at Claire's reaction. "You are okay with that, aren't you Claire?"  
Claire stumbled for words. "Sure... Umm.. Sure. Why-Why wouldn't I be?"  
"Of course. Why wouldn't you be..." Jaclyn seemed pleased at Claire's discomfort.  
Trevor gave both of them a strange look, wondering about their reactions before facing Claire again.  
"So what did you want to see me for, Claire. Non anatomically speaking, I mean."  
"Well, first off Trevor... I want you to stop calling me in the middle of the night just to ask me what I'm wearing."  
Disappointed, Trevor turned to Jaclyn, muttering. "I hate Caller ID..."  
"And second..." Claire reached into the files she was carrying and pulled out a spiral notebook, all the sheets blank inside, offering it to him. "Trevor, this is for you..."  
"For me?!" He spoke boyishly, pretending to be exuberant. "Oh... golly! Really? A brand new notebook! Wow. I can die now. Really. I mean that. Please. Shoot me. And look, just in time for back to school too... Thanks Mom, how about a little kiss on the cheek before I shuffle off to class? Wait let me undo my belt..."  
Claire broke in. "It's for you to write in, Trevor. I always wanted to do this before, and now this is my chance. I want you to keep a journal. Of your thoughts, your dreams."  
Trevor quickly leaned over and plucked the pen out of Jaclyn's surprised hands. Cradling the notebook against one arm, he opened the cover and started writing, frantically pacing back and forth as if in deep concentration.  
"It was a dark and stormy night... Lightning crashed. Thunder rumbled. The eager young nurse screamed as her blouse lay soaked on the ground beside her broken down car near the lonely farmer's barn. The rain pounding on the roof drowned out the moans and pounding together of their drenched-"  
Claire quickly plucked the pen from his fingers, waiting for a moment, before offering it to him again. "Not that, Trevor. I want you to write about REAL experiences."  
"That was real! I'll admit, I'm not an officially licensed medical professional, but we were play acting and the nurse's uniform fit me, so-"  
"Your REAL experiences, Trevor." she emphasized again. "Starting from now. No pretend encounters, no imaginary trysts. But everyday life. Average. Ordinary. _SANE_... I want you to write down what you think and feel as you slowly start to remember your past and re-discover yourself--"  
"Discover myself? You mean like when I was a kid in the shower and I noticed hair growing in the strangest of-"  
Claire didn't dignify that with an answer. "... you know what I mean, Trevor."  
"Tell me, Claire. How much time do you set aside each day to re-'discover' yourself? Because the the thought of that keeps me up at night..."  
She glared at him. "Are you finished?"  
He sighed.  
"Fine.... We can save the re-enactment for later. So... journal. Pen. Write." Trevor scribbled in mid air. "Right. Got it. What else."  
"We're stepping out of the office again today, Trevor. I want to observe you in various everyday situations. Let you interact with real, average, normal, NON-DELUSIONAL people. Like the average, ordinary person you are, Trevor."  
"If you think I'm average, You MUST still mean non-anatomically. A notebook, now a field trip. Are you gonna but me candy too? She works a few blocks down..."  
"No Trevor. Babysitting you is a handful enough without giving you a sugar rush..." She paused, when she realized what he had actually said, but shook it off. "Anyway, like the sign says. 'Don't feed the animals'"  
His face lit up. "The zoo! We're going to a zoo?"  
"I meant you..."  
"Oh..." He sounded disappointed  
Claire pressed her point. "We're going to the museum today, Trevor. Nice. Ordinary. Normal. And you can stop yawning now, please because we're going anyway."  
"Are you sure you can't just shoot me? It would be more humane..."  
"Trevor, the entire purpose of this little excursion is to see you act normally. NOR-... MAL-... LLY... Can the entire class say normally with me?"  
"Nor-ma--" Jaclyn started to say it too, but her voice softly dropped away when Claire stopped her with a look. "Sorry..." Jaclyn apologized.  
Trevor's face still looked strained, his pursed lips working. "Wait, I got it. Norr-... I think I got it. Normmm-... Nor... mel.... Mel... Melly--See, it's just not coming to me."  
"What a shock...." She nodded. "Ok. Come on. And try to behave yourself. Let's get going..."  
Trevor's expression fell as she walked away, realizing she was actually serious about this. With a weary sigh he started to follow her, mumbling.  
"I can feel the fun already..."  
As he walked, he looked back at Jaclyn, mimicking his hands around his throat strangling himself of his will to live.  
Jaclyn smiled once they were gone, and went back to her work.  
  
The Chicago museum was wide and serene, it's large rooms open and quiet. Tasteful works of art covered the walls, lit strategically as people slowly walked past them. Statues and various sculptures, some life like, some abstract, dotted the polished tile floors between the paintings. The visitors in the museum moved slowly from exhibit to exhibit, their voices low as they observed and considered the displays. The air was filled with quiet refinement.  
Then footsteps were heard, growing closer, louder. As the stomping grew, a few people turned their heads when they heard a loud voice approaching, breaking the silence from some distant part of the museum.  
There was an open archway leading into another large exhibit room off to one side, and suddenly Trevor walked momentarily into view across it, gesturing and talking loudly, unconcerned that his voice filled the still air. After he was gone Claire chased behind him, embarrassed, and hurrying to catch up.  
Trevor finally stopped.  
"Hello museum!" He called out, spreading his arms and circling slowly as he took in all the paintings around him. "Amazing... You can actually feel every single bit of excitement being sucked out of this room. About as lively in here as the local morgue on wash night. 'Museum'. From the Latin meaning 'Boremus Maximus'. What the hell are we doing here, Claire? That strip club we passed a couple of blocks back would have been a hell of a lot more fun, especially if you weren't so hung up on the whole personal nudity thing. Who knew you were so prudish. Strippers would also be far more artistically valuable too. What could I possible learn here except maybe how to cure insomnia?"  
Coming to a stop beside him, Claire gave him an exasperated look, realizing that so far this wasn't going as planned. Doing her best to ignore the stares they were getting around the room, Claire spoke. "I just thought... I hoped, that a change of surroundings might dredge up a new memory or two out of that uncharted fogbank you optimistically call a brain. Who knows, Trevor. Maybe you came to this exact same museum as a kid growing up..."  
With a decided lack of enthusiasm he looked around, before finally shaking his head. "Hmm. Mind's a blank..."  
Claire smiled. "I've suspected for years..."  
Trevor shook his head. "Not remembering a place like this is probably a defense mechanism, Claire. This place could make a convent seem like Cabo on keg night. And you. Look at you. You sure aren't doing much to punch up the excitement level either..." He looked over the simple outfit she was wearing. "Do you always have to dress like that in public Claire?"  
She didn't understand, looking down at her clothes. "Like what?"  
He waved his hands at her outfit, straining for words. "Like... THAT. Just once per decade, maybe you could try sexing it up a bit. Something a little tighter, a little higher, a little lower. Unless you package your package, you won't raise any... eyebrows. Take that construction site we passed earlier. You didn't get a single perverse leer or obscene catcall! What does that do for your self esteem..."  
She gave him a look. "Oh I don't know, Trevor. On the upside, that one guy REALLLY seemed to like you..."  
He pointed at her. "Hey, I know that guy. He's really been hard up for work since the Village People broke up. And I guess he already had the hat, so..."  
Claire rolled her eyes. "Trevor, I'm just saying that I'm fine dressed the way I am."  
"My point exactly! Yet no one gets to see the accuracy of that statement with you in that getup! All I'm saying that with a little more paint and body work, you might even catch my discerning eye. Or other assorted body parts. Come on, mix it up once and awhile. They won't wither away in direct light you know. Just show a little more of--... well, this. And a WHOLE lot more of THAT. Definitely more of that. Given a little incentive, who knows. Maybe someday we'll wake up staring into our sweaty contented faces in the newly installed rotating mirror over your bed."  
Claire paused, concentrating as if something distant had caught her attention. "Trevor... Do you hear that?"  
"Hear what?"  
"That sound."  
"I don't hear anything..."  
"Right there... That sound of.... another hopelessly delusional mind, finally snapping."  
He sighed. "I'm not being delusional. I'm just saying you should look into the possibility of having sex this millennium..."  
"I've... I've had sex" Claire blinked at the accusation. "I have. I'm sexual, Trevor."  
"Sure you are. You put the 'coy' in coitus, Claire."  
She seemed annoyed. "Well, maybe not everything in life is about the old bump and grind, Trevor."  
"It's not about the sex, Claire. It's about unclenching! I've seen diamonds with looser morals than you!"  
She sighed. "Why is it that dealing with you always feels like trying to push a river uphill?"  
His eyes sparkled with the image. "On the plus side, I bet you look bitchin' in a wet t-shirt."  
Having finally heard enough, Claire pushed him roughly towards one of the wall paintings. "Art. Examine. Appreciate. Now. Let's go and look around..."  
Smiling, Trevor shouted as she manhandled him. "That's it. Yeah! Spank me, baby! Oh yeah! Come on! Harder! Hurt me! I love it!"  
Claire's face went red as people looked over, but she tried to stay calm, pushing Trevor along in front of her.  
  
Trevor was looking at something out of view.  
Staring at an unseen painting, he was standing by a wall, in deep thought, having wandered off a little from Claire. His gaze moved quietly over the canvas, transfixed, unable to take his eyes off of it. Claire silently walked up and stood beside him, curious at his reaction.  
She could see the concentration on his face, so she turned to look at the painting too, wondering what had him so intrigued. Blinking, she looked over at him again.  
"What is it, Trevor?"  
His voice was calm. "I think this painting is turning me on..."  
"What?"  
He angled his face slightly towards her, but his eyes never left the painting. "Look at the body on her, Claire."  
She blinked. "You're kidding, right?"  
"No. That skin is made for sin. Wait. Is it getting warm in here?"  
Blinking in confusion, she turned her gaze back at the canvas. "Trevor... it's an abstract painting."  
He finally did look at her, eyes filled with disbelief. "You mean you don't see it?"  
Not saying another word Trevor slowly walked off, waving himself off as if he needed to cool down. Not knowing what to say, Claire's brow furrowed, turning her gaze back on the painting, studying it.  
She was standing there alone, before a large imposing plain canvas of pure red hanging on the wall.  
  
"Ok, Trevor. Let's try some word association. I need you to answer quickly, without thinking. In other words... talk like you always do."  
They were still walking through the museum. Trevor thought about it. "Claire, I've decided that my original impression of this place was all wrong. It CAN get more boring... Word association, huh? I know. I'll name a body part, and you name which body part of yours best fits with it." He took a deep breath, about to start.  
Claire stopped him. "Absolutely not, Trevor."  
"Hey, our deal was quid pro quo remember? Fine, you ask your little word association, and I'll limit my inquires to 'either-or' questions. Ok?"  
Claire thought about it. "Deal. Ok, me first."  
He smiled. "Been known to happen. But I'll have to pace myself and try not to fall asleep on you. Hmm... maybe I really should consider using that Bob Dole thing..."  
Claire ignored him. She looked into his eyes, searching, trying to decide which word to use first. Finally it came to her.  
"Home..." she said.  
"Lost..." He instantly replied, looking sad for a moment. But his face brightened as he asked his first question, leering at her.  
"Underwear..." he said.  
With a smirk she looked away. "None of your business..."  
"Still looking for either/or, Claire."  
"My turn again, Trevor." She paused, before coming up with another word. "Love..."  
"Lust..." he replied instantly. "Ok, my turn. M&M's. Peanut or plain."  
She gazed at him, trying to hide the smile creeping onto her face. "The one with the nut. My turn. Sex..."  
"Therapist." He said quickly, before he noticed her stare. "Sorry.... I'm sorry. That just, it slipped out. Ok my turn. Tit or tat?"  
"Umm, tat..." She blinked, having no idea what he was talking about. Then she looked deeply into his face, waiting patiently as she asked her next word. "Trust..."  
"You..." Looking up, he smiled at her before he explained, his voice genuine.  
"Claire, I'm lost here. Without any memories, without a home. Everyone I see all around me is a stranger. I'm all alone here. But you... You're the only one I trust..."  
Feeling a little touched Claire smiled, not knowing what to say. Without another question they both turned, and together they continued to walk through the museum.  
  
They were in a different wing when Trevor walked up to her again. "You know, something has really been bothering me lately, Claire."  
"Trevor, I could have told you those X-ray glasses wouldn't work even before you ordered them out of the back of the comic book-"  
"No, not that."  
"Oh... Then is it that in real life women in bikinis don't bounce in slow motion like they do on Baywatch?"  
"Yes. But... no. Not that."  
"Hmm. You finally heard they were canceling the naked twister tournament?"  
"No..." he said, still thinking.  
"Air brushing in playboy..."  
"No."  
She blinked. "Then what is it, Trevor?"  
He looked her straight in the eye. "Why does it vibrate?"  
She went motionless. "Excuse me?"  
"You know. _IT._ It vibrates. Why? Men don't vibrate. If they did, you instantly know when they're attracted to you." His voice started quivering frantically as his whole body bounced and shook. "Hiiii, Claiiiirre.... I'mm Treevvoorrrr annnd I'mmmm RRREEEAAALLLYY haaaapppy ttooo seeeee yooouuuu...."  
She sighed, exasperated after having thought he was serious for a moment . "Trevor, considering your maturity level, maybe I should introduce you to the joys of Ritalin..."  
His voice started quivering again. "Rita Lynn. Isss shhheee cuuttee???"  
Exasperated, Claire walked away.  
  
Later Claire was admiring an abstract sculpture when Trevor absently walked past behind her, reading a newspaper that he had found lying around somewhere.  
Claire continued to admire the sculpture before her, a shapeless mass of chaotic, contrary curves and arcs, obviously impressed by it. Behind her, Trevor was still engrossed in his newspaper, surprised by what he was reading in the sports section.  
Claire tried to get his attention. "Trevor, look at this. It's remarkable. The juxtaposition of pain and joy. The duality of beauty and ugliness. I believe this sculpture makes a rather... poignant, psychological statement. I'm really impressed by it. It's an insightful work."  
Trevor spared it only passing glance, but he didn't seem too impressed, going back to his paper. "It's total crap, Claire. Plagiarized off sixties television. It's actually an incomplete bust of the cast of Hogan's heroes. The so called 'artist' is just trying to pass it off as 'deep'."  
"What..?" Claire looked at the sculpture again. "No... It's... Wait, maybe it does a little.... No, it can't be, Trevor."  
Still reading, Trevor pointed without looking. "Sure it is. See? It's turned on it's side. That's Colonel Klink's chin right there..."  
Languidly, Trevor walked away from her, still reading.  
Claire blinked at the sculpture, dumbfounded. "But.... It can't... Why-"  
Thinking about what Trevor had said, she looked around to see if anyone was watching her. Then, Claire tilted her head to one side to look at the sculpture from a new perspective. And there it was. Colonel Klink. Smiling at her.  
Her eyes widened, her voice soft. "Wow..."  
Embarrassed by what she saw, Claire straightened up, walking quickly away.  
She moved over to where Trevor was, picking up the front page of the newspaper he had discarded. As she looked at it, she read a headline emblazoned there. _DOCTOR-PATIENT SEX SCANDAL IN NEW YORK WIDENS_ Claire sadly lowered her eyes for a moment, thinking to herself. Trevor interrupted her, still reading the sports section he held.  
"Claire, I may have forgotten a lot, but I never realized professional baseball was so open about the sexuality of their players. They even keep a stat on it. See, right there. Are 'Bi'..."  
Leaning in, she looked at where he was pointing on the newspaper. "That's R.B.I. Trevor. You know. Runs batted in?"  
"Sounds sexy when you say it..." He smiled, looking a little perplexed as he read the stat sheet again. "Really? That's what it means? Ohh.... Then why am I even reading this."  
With that he tossed the paper over his shoulder and walked away.   
  
Sometime later Claire walked up to Trevor again as he was standing by a life like statue of a towering naked man carved in marble. Trevor was distracted, pretending to wipe some imagined dust off the statue's muscular form. But his attention wasn't really on what he was doing. Instead Trevor's eyes were fixed across the room.  
A pretty brunette was standing there, right where Trevor was staring. She was looking up at a large painting on the wall in front of her. But her glance kept slipping over to a handsome young man standing nearby. He was wearing glasses, dressed like a young professor, or perhaps a college T.A. Smiling to herself, the brunette obviously made sure that she lingered near him, slowly pacing across the length of the painting as she pretended to admire it.  
Occasionally, the young man in the glasses looked her way too, obviously attracted to her as well, but not saying a word. As he passed behind her, he turned around and inadvertently bumped into her. The woman smiled at him, and they both softly offered polite apologies to each other, their gazes lingering before they stepped away again, saying nothing else.  
Claire followed Trevor's gaze, and instantly she took in what Trevor was interested in, his eyes still locked on the two. He was watching them so intently that he didn't realize he was actually dusting across the crotch of the nude male statue before him. With a smile Claire decided not to tell him.  
"So. See anything interesting Trevor?"  
He nodded towards the man and woman he was watching across the room. "Cute couple. Just two strangers. Who happened to come to the museum on the same day. They keep looking at each other, wishing that something would happen. But neither says anything."  
Claire was suddenly a little concerned for a moment by his reaction. But then, she couldn't help but gaze fondly into Trevor's face as he watched the couple. "And that interests you?"  
"Sure. It's obvious how they feel about each other. Spending the day together in a museum. But they both stay closed up. Hiding it all away. Why don't they just tell each other?"  
"Maybe they're afraid. That it won't work out." Claire smiled as memories passed through her mind. She lowered her eyes, amused as she spoke. "It's funny. The old Trevor Hale I knew would already have marched over there and-"  
When she looked up, Trevor was gone, not having heard any of it.  
Turning, she quickly searched the room, until she spotted him. He was over at the far wall, talking energetically to the pretty brunette. Even from where she stood, Claire could almost hear the improbable pretense Trevor was spinning for her, as he gently guided her over to the man in the glasses. Trevor acted like he had known the two of them forever, even though in reality none of them had ever met. He eagerly introduced them to each other, even though he didn't actually know either of their names. That was a minor detail. Trevor's voice was friendly, his face animated as he spoke to both of them, hope in his eyes.  
Amazed as she watched, Claire stood there. And then, a smile slowly spread across her face. It was almost like old times. She knew she should be over there stopping him, that is if she really wanted to finally make Trevor 'normal', she should be walking right over there to stop him before this lead down an all too familiar path. But this time, this one time, she let it go, gently observing him. With a grin she walked away, not saying a word.  
  
"Trevor, how do you do that?"  
"Do what?"  
She looked over at him. "That couple back there. You just swooped into their lives. A complete stranger. And after a few seconds you had them talking to each other like they've known each other for ever. After barely a minute they wouldn't have seen you standing there beside them if you were on fire. How do you do it?"  
Pleased, he looked over at the couple. "A single step can cause an avalanche, Claire. They just needed a nudge. So they could start falling."  
Claire smiled, looking down as she walked slowly beside him through the museum. "Today has been nice, Trevor. Here. With you. Like old times."  
He laughed. "Whatever those were... Who knows. Maybe I'm slowly turning back into my old self."  
"Yeah..." Her face was pensive, worried by the prospect.  
Ahead of them was an exhibit wing which they hadn't gone into yet. The crowd was thicker there, causing some sort of commotion from the event that was going on. Claire looked up, wondering what it was.  
"Look, Trevor. It looks like they just opened a new exhibit..."  
Trevor noticed it too, mildly curious. "Yeah. It's drawing a lot of attention. Wonder what it's about."  
As Claire watched, some of the crowd parted, and she was finally able to see the entrance to the exhibit ahead. There was a large placard on a stand beside the arched doorway leading into the large exhibit hall beyond.  
  


EROS  
The Representation and Impact  
of Cupid : The God of Love  
throughout Art and History.  
  


Claire's eyes went wide, and suddenly a panicked look crossed her features. "Trevor, we don't... Ummm, We don't need to go that way..."  
"Why not? Looks like there's a new exhibit over there. A little more lively. It might be fun."  
She started gently tugging at his arm, searching her mind desperately for any plausible excuse to steer him in any other direction. "Ummm.... Let's just go this other way, Trevor. I think I saw a retrospective on the egg in the hallway over here."  
"Set up by the National Botched Lobotomy Survivors Society. Claire, I'm not going to look at a bunch of eggs unless I'm eating them. Why can't we just-"  
"I thought I saw a leggy blond in a micro mini skirt go that way..." she lied.  
Trevor thought about it, silent. "Eggs it is then..."  
Without a moments hesitation he turned and walked the other way, already searching for the supposed blond in the crowd.  
Behind him, Claire took one last worried look at the Cupid exhibit at the far end of the building, an exhibit she hadn't known had been there. Exhaling in relief, she turned to follow after Trevor.  
  
"So Trevor, you're saying that it's impossible for a man to ever understand a woman..." Claire asked.  
"Physically impossible. They're just wired different."  
The two of them were in a hall surrounded by egg sculptures, egg paintings, egg whatever. Every display area was covered with them. Not for the first time, Claire wondered to herself if the museum was really this hard up for exhibit ideas.  
"Trevor, the last time I checked, the neural pathways of men and women were wired exactly the same way."  
"Check again." Trevor continued his point "Women are wired through their hearts and men are wired through their-"  
Claire interrupted him. "I think I get the picture, Trevor."  
He continued. "Men will never be able to understand women. Never happen. Because women are NUTS! They're completely insane. They're unknowable forces of nature that aren't designed to be understood. At least not by anyone swinging a.... y chromosome between his legs. Believe me, there isn't a man alive who has ever truly understood how a woman's mind works."  
She thought about it, sounding skeptical. "Then why are men are still attracted to them, Trevor."   
"Of course men are. Because men are easy to understand! They're the dumbest of creatures with the simplest of motivations. Women on the other hand are more like chocolate souffle. I don't have a clue how they're put together, but they sure are fun to eat."  
Her eyes widened. "Trevor!"  
He blinked at her reaction, not getting it. "What..."  
She finally shook her head. "Never mind. Redundant in your case, I know. So tell me, do you actually pad your knuckles or do you just let them bleed along the floor."  
Trevor was forced to a stop when there was yet another egg statue in his path, looking exactly like all the rest. "Claire, we've been up and down this exhibit five times already. How long are we going to stay here? Let's go back before I start hallucinating phantom eggs while I'm awake instead of just my future nightmares."  
She looked nervously back the way they had come, remembering what was back there. Quickly she stepped in front of Trevor as he started to leave, blocking his path with a smile. "Why go back when there's more here to see."  
Trevor looked up. "It's a bare wall, Claire."  
"Oh..." Disappointed she looked up, realizing they had run out of exhibit. She tried to make the best of it. "But is anything REALLY just a bare wall, Trevor?"  
He motioned towards it "Yeah. This is."  
She put her arm out when he tried to leave again., palm against the wall and hemming him in. "What's the hurry? we could just stay here and... talk some more."  
He ducked under her arm. "Claire I'm egged out! I feel like Foghorn Leghorn on an acid trip! And that blond in the tiny skirt hasn't been in here anywhere. Which already proves one thing. She's smarter than us! This exhibit has definitely lost its egg-citement. Wait... Now I'm doing it. Oh no. Puns. Egg puns. Get it out! Get it out!" He watched her. Claire didn't even crack a smile. Trevor grunted, turning away. "Oh never mind...."  
Claire raced around him and blocked his path again. "What's the rush. We could always talk about... other things, Trevor. Like... Like..." She strained for something.  
Suddenly she grabbed his arm and pulled it up to her. "Dancing. How about we dance again? Huh? Like in the park? That was fun right? Living on the edge, embracing the moment. Let's liven this place up. Show these people how it's done."  
He stared at her. "There's no music. Besides, the people in here are beyond saving. They're in an egg exhibit! We're in an egg exhibit! We're talking real Night of the Living Dead here! And besides, what's up with you, anyway? You're really acting.... kinda weird."  
Her face froze. "Umm, nothing's 'up' with me Trevor. I just thought... that maybe you'd remember more details if we danced. Like before. Ok. Instead of dancing, how about I answer any one question about myself. Any question about me, I'll answer it."  
"Really?" Trevor smiled, intrigued.  
"Umm, sure..." Claire already looked a little doubtful, but she was desperate. She quickly led Trevor to a bench and sat both of them down, turning to face him.  
"Fire away, Trevor."  
  
It was sometime later and Claire was pacing back and forth as she went into the tenth minute of her answer to Trevor's question, engrossed by her own analysis.  
"So you see, in a way my first sexual encounter was actually a subconscious attempt to fill the void of that underlying emotional deficiency throughout my formative years. And by seeking to reinforce my evolving sexual and romantic maturation, in the end I precipitated-"  
Claire finally looked over to where Trevor was sitting and suddenly stopped in her tracks. Trevor wasn't quiet because he had started dosing off again during her long, dry analysis about her first time. He was quiet because he wasn't there anymore. Startled, she stepped forward. He was gone. Quickly she turned and scanned the room. But this time, he was no where in sight.  
"Trevor!"  
Frantic, she hurried down the length of the exhibit, moving from room to room, everything flying by as she called out his name, nearly running. Eventually she started seeing more normal statues whizzing past, more conventional art on the walls, leaving the egg exhibit far behind. But still nothing. Claire continued to call out, ignoring the stares she was getting from the museum patrons.  
"Trevor!"  
Claire stopped. He was nowhere to be seen. Then a sudden dread filled her chest, and she knew where he had to be.  
"Oh no..." she whispered, and this time, she actually did run.  
  
Walking into the Cupid exhibit, Trevor took the small pamphlet the museum worker by the entrance handed him. The pamphlet had a small winged cherub on the cover, holding a bow. The title of the exhibit was emblazoned red beneath it.  
As Trevor slowly moved into the crowded room, he absently shoved the pamphlet into his pocket, forgetting about it completely. He looked around, a little amazed as he took it all in. There was artwork on display everywhere. Paintings, priceless sculptures, even a few ancient books. The room was decorated almost with a party atmosphere. Red fabric streamers arced across the ceiling. Beneath them the crowd moved and buzzed with soft conversation. The entire exhibit was a mass of activity and color. There was even some sort of neon sculpture blinking in the corner. This exhibit was definitely not as staid as the rest of the museum.  
Trevor slowly smiled, intrigued by it all, by all the exuberance and obsession with the things of love. He walked forward into the packed room.  
  
Far behind him in the more quiet areas, Claire was running, speeding frantically along, skidding and sliding across the smooth floor tiles as she tried to round a corner. Scrambling to stay upright, she lost her footing, starting to fall. But a nearby man eagerly reached out to catch her, looking a little stunned that a beautiful woman had just fallen into his arms. For a moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the world as he quickly helped Claire stand again.  
"There you go Miss. I'm, umm, I'm Rob by the way. Glad to get under you in time."  
"Thanks," she breathed, already starting to sprint away, desperate to find Trevor.  
The man saw his chance slipping away, so he knew he had to step forward and call out.  
"Maybe I can get under you again sometime..."  
Even as rushed as she was, Claire still stopped in her tracks, her shoulders tensing at his audacity, almost speechless as she looked back in shock at the man. "You... you really need to work on your pick up lines..."  
With that admonishment hanging between them for a second, Claire suddenly jerked away, running through the halls calling out Trevor's name.  
Left behind as he sadly lowered his head, the man spoke in a soft, embarrassed voice. "I know..."  
  
Trevor stopped in the middle of the crowd and slowly turned in place. The Cupid exhibit seemed to slowly spin around him as he smiled. He noticed a priceless, virtually life like sculpture of unbelievable artistry before him, a statue of Cupid's muscular body lying prone, his wings sprawled on Psyche's lap as he died in her arms. Slowly and without realizing why, Trevor reached up, growing somber as he touched the small scar on his chest. For some reason he started thinking of Claire. The crowd continued to pass back and forth behind him. Then a space opened, and he felt something on his shoulder blades, somehow sensing the small statue on display in that space behind him. Slowly he turned to face it.  
There, on a single pedestal, was the statue of a small winged cherub, it's child like face smiling serenely, content. It's wings behind it were locked in mid flight, as if frozen in stone. Slowly Trevor stepped closer as he looked at it, transfixed. Somehow it seemed as if everything else went quiet around him. He could almost hear a low ominous sound, like a deep chord of awe and anticipation in his mind, faintly humming with a strange sense of dread. The statue seemed to loom ever closer in his vision. The small arrow the smiling figure held was pointed right at his chest.  
Trevor's lips slowly parted, awed by the statue. This meant something. Something important. But he didn't have a clue as to what it was. For some reason as he stood there he couldn't take his eyes off the Cupid statue, not moving.  
  
Out of breath, Claire suddenly rushed into the Cupid exhibit. She looked down in bewilderment at the Cupid pamphlet the museum worker shoved into her inattentive hand, before tossing it aside. Claire pushed through the crowd, bobbing left and right as she searched all around, keeping her voice soft now as she called out Trevor's name.  
Then finally she saw him, standing motionless as he looked up at a winged statue of Cupid in an apparent daze. Her hopes fell.  
"Oh crap..." Claire whispered, quickly rushing over to him. Still a little out of breath, she came to a stop next to him, trying to stay calm, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.  
"There you are, Trevor. I was afraid that you got away from me..."  
Trevor was still staring at the statue, not looking at her.  
Silently, Claire swallowed. "Umm, what--... What is it, Trevor?"  
"This statue..." His voice was soft.  
"What about it?"  
"It's all wrong."  
"Wrong? What's wrong with it Trevor?"  
He slowly shook his head, still in a daze. "He should be taller..."  
Claire had finally heard enough, pulling gently at his arm. "Come on, Trevor. Let's get out of here. I think we've had our fill of the museum for one day.  
"Yeah..." Trevor said absently. Finally he looked away and started slowly moving, leaving her there.  
Claire sighed, glad he was finally going, hoping against hope that his seeing this exhibit hadn't done much harm by potentially bringing back memories of his delusion. Relieved for the moment, she started to follow him out.  
Ahead, Trevor had stopped again in front of the elaborate sculpture of Cupid dying in Psyche's arms. The scar on his chest almost seemed to throb as he touched it again. As Claire came up to stand beside him, he looked at the woman's face in the statue, and something stuck him about it.  
"She looks like you, Claire..."  
"Trevor..." Her eyes looked a little sad, and she gently held his shoulder. "Come on. Let's go home..."  
Once she was finally certain Trevor was leaving, Claire looked back. The small cherub statue had it's arrow pointed at her, it's child like smile almost mocking her.  
Blinking at it, she turned and followed Trevor. Together they walked out of the crowded room. Streamers still arced over the fanciful Cupid exhibit behind them once they were gone, as the crowd still moved through the displays.  
  
Later that night, Taggerty's was loud and packed with customers during it's nightly rush. Music played over the crowd. Drinks were served in the soft light of the dim, noisy interior. Claire and Jaclyn were both seated at the crowded bar. Behind it, Trevor was working. Or more specifically, practicing from a book, distracted in the middle of all the chaos as he tried to regain a few of the bartending skills he had forgotten.  
Champ was at work behind the bar as well. Whenever he passed Trevor, he tried to offer whatever help he could. But that wasn't much, since Champ was swamped with filling drink orders of his own.  
Then Jaclyn smiled at him. Champ instantly found time to stop before he passed her. Jaclyn's eyes glittered up at him as he stepped closer. Gently, she teased him. "Kiss me right now Champoo. Or my lips start looking elsewhere..."   
Champ didn't mind answering her challenge. He smiled as he leaned over the bar, sweeping Jaclyn's head into his palm and pulling her mouth to his. They kissed passionately, deeply, oblivious to everything else in the loud room. Her uplifted hand went slack on his wrist during the kiss, forgotten as it slowly dropped and their kiss extended. Trevor looked up from where he was reading his book of drink recipes. Across from him, Claire did the same from her seat. They both watched as Champ and Jaclyn's kiss went on, growing speechless and surprised by the intensity of what they were seeing. It wasn't a side of either of those two that they had ever really seen before. Suddenly Trevor and Claire felt a little uncomfortable sitting there, obviously not doing what Jaclyn and Champ were doing. For a moment they looked across at each other, considering the other, before subtly pulling back from each other, separating.   
Finally breaking the kiss, Champ inhaled, looking into Jaclyn's eyes. "Sorry I haven't been paying you much attention tonight. We're just really busy. But believe me. I'll always have time for kissing you. I'll come over when it calms down, I promise."  
"Sure..." Jaclyn was still a little dazed from his kiss, trying to gather her thoughts. She pulled her palm to her ear, her fingers delicately curling around across the back of her neck. She still felt herself swooning as she gently rubbed the tingling skin there. "Umm... Yeah. I'll... I'll be right here..."  
With a small smile, Trevor playfully stepped between the two of them and started to prod Champ away. "Hey, get back to work. You two are melting the ice..."  
Champ leaned in for another quick kiss off Jaclyn's lips, making her laugh as Trevor pushed him away. Grinning happily, he walked backwards as Trevor pushed him, watching her over his shoulder, eyes smoldering for her. "OK... I'm going, Trevor. Man I wish it wasn't Allison's night off. I could use the help. Who would have thought you'd ever forget how to make a drink?"  
Trevor nodded. "Hey. Momentary lapse, I promise. It'll come back. I know I still remember. I just don't remember that I remember..."   
Trying to follow that, Champ finally tapped Trevor's skull. "It never ceases to amaze me what passes for logic in there..."  
Suddenly Linda appeared behind the bar, walking past both of them. Taggerty's manager and owner was busy too, swamped with work like everyone else. She leaned down to put away more drink glasses beneath the bar. Straightening, she tapped Champ's shoulder. "Drink orders are backing up, Champ..."  
"Ok, Linda. I'm on it." With one last sparkling glance at Jaclyn, Champ forced himself to turn and walk away. In her seat, Jaclyn softly bit her lip as she watched him leave, her face flush and content.  
Linda turned towards Trevor, who continued to carefully study the drink book in his hands. She sighed. "It's good to have you back, Trevor. This place didn't seem the same while you were gone. Just... start remembering quick, okay? I mean, Allison's a god send. A great bartender who's really cute and brings in the guys. But she can't be here every night. We could use the old you back..."  
With a smile, Trevor lifted the book he was holding. "Working on it... By the way. Does anyone know how to make a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster?"  
Linda exhaled, putting her hand fondly on Trevor's shoulder for a moment. Then she walked away, diving back into the work that awaited her throughout the crowded bar.  
Ignoring the chaos all around him, Trevor turned back to Jaclyn and Claire, full of confidence as tossed the drink book into Claire's surprised hands. "Ok. Quiz me, shrink meister..."  
Claire looked at him skeptically for a moment, before she opened up the small book. A smile crossed her face when she saw the entry, recognizing it. It would have to be that page, wouldn't it? She read it out.  
"Flaming flamingo..."  
For a moment, Trevor blinked as if he almost recognized the name too, straining to remember it from his past. Then he effortlessly started to recite. "Grenadine, Creme de Menthe, Cointreau and Cognac..."  
Claire tried not to smile, feeling a little warm as she thought about that previous time, wondering if he remembered any of it. She asked her second question, just like before. "Slippery nipple..."  
Beside her, Jaclyn's head turned from watching Champ when she heard that, watching as it dawned on her what they were re-enacting.  
Glancing at her for a second, Claire saw the recognition in Jaclyn's eyes. They both remembering doing this before, with the positions reversed when Trevor had tested Claire's bartending skills instead. But the two women kept it to themselves, turning to watch Trevor, still struggling with the answer.  
"I'm thinking.. Give me a sec...." Suddenly he had it. "Anisette, peppermint snaps, and Bailey's..."  
"See... That was a yes or no question, Trevor." Claire smiled. "Sex on the Beach..."  
Trevor leaned in closer. "Not tonight, thanks..."  
She nodded, looking into his eyes warmly. He couldn't possibly remember this. "I'm back to quizzing you on exotic cocktails, Trevor."  
He smiled. "Forgive me..."  
They were silent, looking at each other for a moment. Beside them, Jaclyn glanced back and forth between them, wondering what would happen next.  
Putting the book down, Claire tilted her head. "Trevor... do you really remember all that? Or did you simply learn it just now?"  
"I don't know...." His voice was soft, not looking away from her. "Maybe some things are worth remembering..."  
She nodded, a tender light in her eyes. "Maybe they are..."  
Pleased with himself, he pulled back. "I barely learned it, Claire. Honestly..."  
She didn't look like she believed him, still smiling.  
Suddenly Linda's voice called out from across the bar. "Trevor, we could use a hand over here!"  
"Alright!" He shouted back. Turning, he faced her again for a moment. "Gotta go..."  
"Don't stray on my account..."  
Trevor turned and paused before he walked away. Smiling, he spoke to himself, loud enough for them to hear, and perhaps on purpose. "Why do I suddenly feel like the daughter of a jazz guitarist?"  
Not turning around, he left without another word. Claire watched him, a smile on her face.  
Once he was gone, Jaclyn excitedly scooted over to her. "I can't believe it! Trevor remembered. Remembered that night..."  
"Maybe..." Claire looked down, her smile fading until she almost seemed disappointed.  
Jaclyn was still excited. "That night we met Don Quixote, when he quizzed you on how to make-"  
"We didn't meet Don Quixote," Claire corrected her. "His name was Robert Cunningham. Yet another of the ohhh so many delusional men that have dropped into our lives, Jaclyn."  
Her enthusiasm wasn't dulled by Claire's admonition. "But the point is Trevor remembered! Finally. That's a good thing... I mean.... isn't it?"  
"I--" Claire paused, lowering her eyes. "I don't know sometimes..."  
Silent, Jaclyn didn't understand.  
Claire noticed, and this time her voice was softer. "It's just been that kind of day, Jaclyn. Little reminders here and there. For awhile I tried just to enjoy them. To revel in the nostalgia, I guess.. Trevor being Trevor. But maybe he's starting to remember too much..."  
Jaclyn blinked at her. "What are you talking about, Claire?"  
She exhaled. "At the museum today..."  
"What at the museum?"  
"Well... Trevor showed signs of," Claire looked around for a moment to see if he was anywhere near them. Finally she stood up. "Come on, Jaclyn. Let's go talk away from the bar, ok?"  
Curious about what was going on, Jaclyn nodded. "Ok..."  
Taking their drinks they walked through the crowd towards an open booth at the back. Jaclyn smiled as several men propositioned her when she passed, having seen that kiss at the bar. As she followed behind Claire, full of confidence, she batted their overtures down, realizing how stupid men were most of the time.   
Behind the bar, Trevor looked up from where he was working, watching both of them until they sat down and started talking in one of the booths. Jaclyn and Claire were huddled together, talking, whispering. For a moment Trevor stopped what he was doing and wondered what they were talking about so intensely. But he pushed it out of his mind and went back to work.  
  
Hours later, the bar was quiet. Most of the crowd had gone. The last remaining stragglers were being guided out between the empty tables. The room was quiet in the absence of all the blaring music. Everyone was readying for closing.  
Jaclyn and Claire still sat in the booth, talking, their voices lowered.  
Jaclyn couldn't believe it. "So there was actually an entire Cupid exhibit at the museum? The one day you decided to go?"  
"Yes!" Claire nodded. "I mean, I had no idea... It's not something I even thought to check. I tried my best to steer Trevor away from it, but he eventually ended up there anyway. I don't know... It was almost as if was drawn there. But on the plus side, Trevor didn't appear to remember any of his delusion. So I'm grateful for that at least..."  
"I don't know if that's the plus side. Personally, I wish he would remember..." Jaclyn looked up at Claire's silent gaze. "Look, I know how you feel about it, Claire. You didn't want him to remember and he didn't. Why are you concerned? Everything's okay. You got what you wanted. I don't see a problem..."  
Claire sighed. "I know... But it's more than that. Even before the Cupid exhibit, Trevor was acting... familiar. He saw this couple at the museum. Two strangers, obviously attracted to each other. And Trevor couldn't help it. He introduced them. Just walked right over, did it without thinking. Without realizing it, he was acting just like Cupid, like his old delusional self. It worries me, Jaclyn. Lately it seems like Trevor is acting more and more like... _Trevor_."  
Jaclyn didn't waver. "And that's necessarily bad?"  
There was worry in Claire's eyes. "It could be... yeah." She thought about it ."I mean, here I am. Trying my best to hide that life from him. To give him a fighting chance at getting better... But I don't know how well I'm doing it. Jaclyn... I can't let him go back to that life. I can't. Trevor can't go around believing he's Cupid forever..."  
Jaclyn was just about to argue the point with her when Champ walked up to their table, smiling at her. Claire pulled back, the conversation obviously over. She watched as Champ leaned down and kissed Jaclyn tenderly. Claire shifted in place a bit, and her eyes were suddenly sad as she looked at them. For a moment she wondered if she would ever have that in her life. If she would ever share that, feel that with someone. She had been wondering that a lot lately. Without a word Claire gathered her things as they continued to kiss, sliding out of the booth and standing up beside them.  
"It's getting late. I better get going..." she said.  
Stopping, Champ and Jaclyn looked up at her, breaking their embrace. Contently, Champ moved around and leaned over Jaclyn's shoulders, his arms wrapped around her as they faced Claire. "Glad you stayed awhile, Claire. It was nice having all of us here together again... Almost like old times."  
Claire's voice was soft. "Yeah... almost..."  
Champ straightened up, holding Jaclyn's hand in his and turning to her. "Look, I still gotta close up the bar. It'll take awhile longer, so I'll see you at home, okay?"  
"Sure..." She gave him a quick kiss. "Can't wait. Look forward to getting home... because you should."  
"Great." He smiled with understanding. "I will. I'll hurry, I promise."  
"Bye."  
Champ hurried back to the bar, a fresh incentive in his steps as he thought about going home to Jaclyn. Behind them, Claire was already leaving. "Goodnight, Jaclyn" she said softly.  
"Night, Claire..." Jaclyn answered absently, preoccupied with what her and Claire had been talking about, not wanting to drop it yet. Finally she looked up, calling out to her.  
"Hey Claire.... Wait. up. I'll walk out with you..."  
  
Everyone else was gone. Most of the remaining work in the bar was done. Champ and Trevor finished cleaning up. Champ handed Trevor a tray of unused glasses from underneath the bar. "Trevor, these need to go back into the storeroom. I'll close down the registers and we're out of here."  
"Sure. Got it." Trevor hefted the glasses onto his shoulder and started walking towards the swinging door into the back areas. As he crossed the quiet room, it was empty. The chairs were on top of the tables, the floors swept and clean. Champ worked on the register behind him.  
Shoving hard with his free shoulder, Trevor pushed the swinging door open, taking the glasses into the rear storeroom. With a grunt he hefted the tray onto some empty shelf space, hearing the glasses clatter softly. Trevor took a breather, resting for a moment, tired from the long day. Slowly he started looking around the dim storeroom. There was a little bit of everything in there, more drink glasses, unopened boxes filled with liquor bottles, bar decorations. A few of those decorations caught his eye, stored in a box on the shelf.  
Curious, he reached out, poking around in the box. Inside were various decorations in colors of white, red, and pink, some in the shape of hearts, others the outlines of winged cherubs holding bows. Valentine's day decorations. He touched them, slow and curious, and a jolt of static electricity snapped onto his skin, making him momentarily pulled his hand back. But after a moment he touched them again, his fingers grazing gently across them now that he knew what they were. Out of nowhere, he sensed that they were important to him somehow. He knew that much at least. Blinking, he started to search through the other contents of the box.  
With a growing eagerness he rifled through them, touching, moving them all around in the quiet air of the storeroom. There were even more valentine decorations in there, along with some streamers and strings of colored lights. He pulled out a carefully piled stack of sketches. Leafing through them, he saw that they were drawings of various people and objects. The sheets had small holes in them, like they had been thumb nailed to a wall. Shifting the box to one side, he noticed there was something behind it. A heart shaped neon sign with the word Cupid written in its center was resting there, dark and unlit. Wondering what it all was, he moving the box over to see what was on its side, written in black marker. He recognized the words as his own writing.  
"Cupid's day..." he read softly, thinking to himself.  
  
The night air was cool as Jaclyn and Claire walked side by side down the sidewalk towards their respective homes. Far above them the stars glittered in a clear, flawless sky, watching them. As they passed under each streetlight, it's glow softly bathed them for a moment until they moved past, outlining them in the distance. Occasionally a car whizzed past on the street beside them. Neither woman was in any real hurry to get home, or to break the silence between them, walking casually down the sidewalk.  
Finally Jaclyn sighed, her voice sounding a little reluctant. "Claire... I consider you my best friend. There's no easy way to say this, but... you've got to stop. You can't keep doing this."  
She blinked. "Doing what?"  
Jaclyn stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face her. "Lying to Trevor about his past. You can't do that to him..."  
Claire sighed, realizing that they were going to have this argument again. "I'm just doing what I think is best. I'm trying to help him, Jaclyn."  
"I know..." Jaclyn's said with empathy. Yet her conviction didn't waver. "But you're wrong..."  
  
Trevor sat in the storeroom, looking at all the decorations gathering dust. They were just unwanted decorations, sitting there abandoned and forgotten. Almost like he felt for a moment. Somehow that box seemed like a death knell. Slowly reaching into his pocket, Trevor pulled out the museum pamphlet he had shoved in there from earlier in the day. He had forgotten all about it. As he looked at it, wrinkled in his hand, he saw the same small figurine emblazoned there, just like the decorations, just like the Cupid exhibit he had seen.  
Outside in the bar, Champ was nearly finished when he heard the door to the back room swing open again. Without turning around, he called out. "All done Trevor. Ready to go?"  
When he looked up Trevor was just standing there, staring at him as he held something behind his back. Champ paused. There was something in the way Trevor stood there, something in his expression. Something was going on, and he spoke more cautiously. "What--what is it, Trevor?"  
Trevor's voice was somber. "Champ, I need to ask you something. And I think it's time somebody told me the truth..."  
  
Jaclyn was pacing across the sidewalk as she pressed her point, her voice strong and adamant. "You don't see it! You just don't see it, Claire! You refuse to tell him he thought that he was Cupid. You refuse to tell him that the two of you were in love with each other.... You're keeping his own life away from him and it's wrong! You've been taking advantage of Trevor's memory loss since the day he got back. Trying to fix him, to change him. Because it's what you want Claire, not him! You're so afraid that Trevor will turn himself into something he's not, you don't see how that's exactly what you're doing instead! How can you do that to him Claire? How do you expect Trevor to ever be honest with you about who he is, if you're not honest with him yourself?"  
Claire blinked at her intensity, surprised, but replying just a strongly. "Jaclyn, I know you don't approve of what I'm doing. You don't approve of hiding away his delusion. But it's for the best! Don't you think I'm doing this because I lo-... care about him? Trevor needs help. He needs to let go of Cupid and not look back. Cupid's his safety net, and a false one! He can't go back. He won't go back. Not as long as I can help it. And as long as he doesn't remember the Cupid delusion, he won't..."  
  
"Tell me the truth, Champoo...." Trevor asked again.  
Champ paused, thinking as Trevor walked up and stood across from him on the other side of the bar. Champ felt a sudden wariness fill him, but he tried not to let that show. His words were uncertain as he spoke. "The truth about what, Trevor?"  
Trevor pulled his arms around, placing what he had hidden behind his back on top of the bar between them. Reaching over he plugged it into an electric socket, and it glowed brightly to life. It was a neon heart with the word Cupid written in the middle, it's bright colored light reflecting off the bar's surface between them.  
"Umm..." Champ looked at it. His lips parted cautiously, wondering what to say. "Trevor... I'm not sure that I should be-"  
Trevor interrupted him, motioning at the sign. "This. This is me. I did this. I know it. I feel it. But no one will tell me. No one. This is what I am somehow. This!"  
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the crumpled museum pamphlet and shook it at him emphatically before slamming it down onto the bar. "I recognize this! I don't know why, but I recognize all this..."  
Realizing what was happening, Champ was still reluctant. "Trevor, maybe you should talk to Claire about-"  
"I'm not asking Claire. I'm asking you. You're my friend right? Friends shouldn't lie to each other. Be my friend." Trevor's eyes were pleading. "Tell me the truth..."  
The silence stretched between them as they faced each other in the quiet bar, the neon sign glowing brightly between them. The air seemed to fill with anticipation.  
Finally, Champ sighed. "Alright, Trevor. Grab a seat..."  
  
Claire and Jaclyn were facing each other too as a streetlight glowed in the distance behind them. The two women were outlined against its light, arguing as Jaclyn stepped forward.  
"Admit it, Claire. You've never once honestly considered that maybe Trevor is who he says he is. Maybe it's only what he needs, or maybe it's what he is, deep down..."  
Claire scoffed, angry that she had to defend herself. "What... Cupid?! Come on, Jaclyn! Do you honestly believe he's some sort of fallen god? Tumbled down the side of Olympus, until he somehow managed to land all the way over here with us in Chicago? To all appearances, an ordinary man. Who just happens to look like every other average, ordinary, man down here! A god without wings, without power, and without magic. Deep down even you don't really believe that!"  
Jaclyn tensed, her eyes flashing. "Trevor has magic... Every time he helps two people find each other. Believe me, I should know. You just refuse to see that magic because you don't approve of it. Besides... It doesn't really matter what I believe. Or what you believe. It's about what he believes! Maybe Cupid is what he really needs. I don't know who he's hiding underneath, but I do know he's never hid from you. Not in any way that matters! Don't you think I know what you're really doing? You're being selfish, Claire."  
"Selfish?!"  
"Yes! You want to fix him because you love him and that's the only way someone rational like you would ever allow yourself to finally be with him! You're embarrassed by his delusion. You care more about your reputation than you do your heart! You don't want to cure him for _him_, you want to cure him for _you!_"  
With a frustrated groan, Claire started walking away, annoyed and angry. "That's not it, Jaclyn..."  
Jaclyn hurried to keep pace beside her, watching her expression. "Yes... It is, Claire! You want to turn him into some sort of normal societal standard. The perfect image of what a sane person like yourself should be with. But you can't! You have to let him make his own life! Not make it for him! Why can't you just love him the way he is? You're so hell bent on trying to fix him, that you never bother to ask yourself if you should!"  
"Yes I am hell bent," Claire said with determination, still walking angrily down the sidewalk and not facing her. "Yes I am... Because in the end, even without his memories, Trevor's still a lot better off the way he is now."  
Jaclyn reached out and stopped her, turning her around. "To strangers! Not to the people he loved! Or who loved him back! You don't get it, do you? Trevor's never cared about how the world sees him. It wasn't their approval he wanted! It was yours! Don't you see! Their rejection didn't hurt him, but yours did! You're the one hurting him, Claire. Not some delusion... _YOU_. Because even though you love him, you still can't accept him for who he is..."  
  
Champ and Trevor were seated across from each other at the bar, tilting back bottles of beer. They took long drinks, exhaling as the alcohol's buzz worked through them. Putting their bottles down, they continued their conversation. The neon Cupid sign still glowed brightly behind them. A row of empty beer bottles was already lined up beside them. They had both known they were needed to continue this conversation. And perhaps more.  
Trevor pushed his words through the tingle of the beer. "I was right all along. I thought I was insane thinking what I was thinking...."  
Champ smiled, talking another sip. "Take a number..."  
Trevor looked over at him, completely serious. "So I was a god before..."  
"Yeah."  
"What the hell am I doing down here?"  
Champ looked up. "Want my opinion?"  
"Sure."  
For a moment, he searched for words, trying to explain. "No one ever shoots the god of love, Trevor."  
For a moment, Trevor touched the scar on his chest.  
Champ continued. "There's no one around to make the god of love, fall in love. I don't know... Maybe you really did screw up the state of romance today because you didn't know what you were doing. Maybe you were banished here to be punished. Then again, maybe it's all in your head and it's only what you need to tell yourself. In the end, it doesn't matter if Cupid is some delusional metaphor or the real thing. Cause I think what you really needed, was to come down here and experience love for yourself."  
Trevor smiled skeptically. "Yeah... With who?"   
"That's all I'm telling you, Trevor. I'll confirm the little you've remembered, but I'm not saying anything more. The rest you'll have to figure out for yourself."  
Trevor thought about, trying to make some sense of it. He spoke in amazement. "I'm Cupid..."  
Champ nodded, not believing that he was going along with this "At least that's what you thought you were. That's what you told everyone..."  
"I knew it!" Trevor seemed excited, his voice quick and soft. "I just knew it. I knew I couldn't just be this... small. I knew I couldn't have such a tiny, pathetic life..."  
"Yeah..." Champ looked at him sadly. "No one ever wants to believe that, Trevor."  
  
Claire took a breath of night air, moving closer to Jaclyn on the sidewalk. Her voice was softer, less angry, trying to make her understand as she looked tenderly into her eyes. "It's not just me, Jaclyn. You think I'm alone in this? The world will never accept a man claiming to be the Roman god of love. They won't. _EVER..._ Do you think the hospital will wait around forever for him to get better? The only reason they haven't locked him up already as a flight risk is because of his memory loss.... And what then. What if he does remember his delusion. Who's to say he won't react exactly the same way he did before? He ran away once, what's to stop him from doing it again if he remembers?"  
Jaclyn looked at her, insistent. "You..."  
Looking at her for a long moment, Claire's eyes grew soft. "Jaclyn... you surprise me. You've changed so much..."  
Jaclyn looked at her. "Being with Champ has changed me. Another something I'm grateful to Trevor for. Maybe you should change too..."  
"I.... I can't...."  
Claire sighed. "One person's already shot Trevor. Another tried to lock him in an institution. Trevor saw the danger and ran away. They won't accept him. Not today. Not tomorrow. His only chance is to get past this. That's why I have to lie to him..." Claire's voice broke, closing her eyes before the moisture there could show. "I can't let all that happen to him again. Not while there's still a chance to cure him."  
"Claire, I know this is hurting you too. Can't you just stop? Can't you let both of you be happy?"  
"That isn't the world we're in... I wish it was, Jaclyn. This is what I have to do."  
"Even if he ends up hating you for lying to him?"  
Claire looked down. "Even if... It's funny. I thought everything would be perfect if he just came back. It's not..."  
Jaclyn stepped forward. "You can't cure what he doesn't want cured, Claire."  
Determined, she inhaled. "Yes I can. I will. He still doesn't remember. If he starts to, then I don't know. Maybe then it's over. Maybe I'm standing in his way and I shouldn't be his doctor anymore. But I'm not there yet. I'm not giving up. Trevor hasn't gone back to the delusion. As long as that's true, I'm still holding onto some small hope... for both of us."  
Jaclyn shook her head, unconvinced. "Then maybe you should ask yourself something, Claire. And be honest with the answer. All those weeks, all those months you were looking for him... Who were you actually hoping to find?"  
Claire's lips parted, but she stopped, realizing it wasn't an easy question.  
Without waiting for a response, Jaclyn turned and walked down the sidewalk alone, leaving Claire standing there, thinking under the glow of a streetlight.  
  
Back at Taggerty's, Trevor and Champ raised their bottles for one last toast.  
  
The next morning Claire sat quietly behind her desk, waiting for Trevor to show up for their next session. With an impatient sigh she looked at the clock again, checking for what seemed the fifth time in half as many minutes. He was definitely late. As the seconds passed, her expression hardened, annoyed. The office was still, silent around her as she waited alone.  
Claire wasn't used to Trevor being late anymore. Since he had come back, he had always been on time. Tapping her fingers on the waiting notebook on her desk, she tried to stay calm and not think about it. She was finally about to rise out of her chair to recheck, when she heard the click of her office doorknob turning. She quickly sat down as the door opened.  
Whatever caustic comment she had been about to utter died on her lips when she saw him enter. Trevor looked different, like he had changed from before. Smiling at her, he almost glowed with contentment, a playful glint in his eye. As he came in, there was a vibrancy in his features and his demeanor. A vaguely familiar vibrancy.  
Claire looked at him, wondering at the change. As she spoke, it distracted her. "Trevor, you're... late."  
Even as she said that, she suddenly found that fact disturbing.  
He stepped enthusiastically over to her desk, pressing his palms down as he leaned in close over it. "And good morning to you too, Claire! I'll just assume that's what you said. Maybe I should have actually been listening..."  
"Trevor, I..." She looked at him skeptically. "You're never late. Recently, I mean. What's.... what's going on?"  
His smile grew. Excited, he stepped around the desk. He couldn't stop grinning at her. "Claire... I have great news."  
"News..." She blinked. Why did that almost sound ominous? "Great news like what?"  
Full of pent up energy, Trevor started pacing back and forth to release it, not losing his enthusiasm as he talked quickly, his words eager and almost a jumble. "The veil's finally starting to fall... I feel it. I don't have it all yet, at least not the specifics. There are still a lot of details I don't know but it came to me, Claire! It finally came to me like a bolt form the heavens it came. I couldn't believe it. It's all so clear now. Why didn't I see it before, Claire? I mean, it's so obvious who I am, when you think about it I really should have known right away."  
She broke in. "What are you talking about?"  
Stopping, he turned to face her, looking at her proudly. "I remember, Claire."  
"Remember what?"  
"Who I am..."  
She almost smiled. This was what she had been waiting for. Her face started to take on the same enthusiasm he showed in his. "You remember?"  
He nodded at her, still excited. "Oh yeah. I don't remember everything yet. In fact I don't remember any of the details at all, but I know who I am! I'm positive the rest will come back now. For awhile last night, Champ and I talked, and I thought I was someone else completely. Someone ridiculous. But now I know! There's still so much of my life that is this big whole nothing. This big blank. But now... there's something! A start. A beginning! A Chapter One instead of a Chapter None! I can't believe this! I really can't believe--"  
"Trevor..." Claire spoke calmly, trying to temper him, just as she was tempering her own anticipation. "Slow down, Trevor. Take a deep breath and calm down. Now tell me... What is it that you remember?"  
"My name! My identity! Who I really am! There's still a lot I need to fill in, but more and more is coming back all the time. I remember where I worked, I remember my old job.... I even remember a few vague images of growing up. I remember meeting you for the first time! But it's all still a jumble..."  
Claire tried to stay calm, not letting her hopes get the best of her. Maybe this really was the breakthrough she had been waiting for. Anticipation in her gaze, she rose from her chair and walked over towards him. "Back up, Trevor. First thing's first. You said you remember your name? Who you are? Exactly?"  
"Yes! Well... not everything. Not exactly. But I do remember my name again..."  
Claire smiled in relief. She couldn't help it. Pen in hand she wrapped her arms enthusiastically around him and gave him a warm hug, smiling over his shoulder. "That's great news Trevor! What is it?"  
He took a breath, caught off guard at her reaction, surprised that she was hugging him, and surprised he liked it so. He didn't pull out of her arms. "This is gonna sound amazing, but.... I'm Cupid...."  
Her body changed against his. Stunned, she looked over his shoulder, her face blank with shock. Still holding him, she struggled to understand, ignoring the icy pit in her chest. The pen she held against his back fell to the floor from her motionless fingers.  
"What...?" she whispered.  
"Claire, I'm the god of love..."   
Slowly she stepped back and out of his arms, looking into his excited face with dismay. The world seemed to twist and fall away beneath her. Her voice was soft, shocked and full of sadness. "No...."  
For a moment, Trevor simply misunderstood her reaction as the same amazement he had felt earlier. "I know! I couldn't believe it either! Not at first. But now, now that I know... This is so great Claire! I mean, finally! I kept wondering why I felt so out of place here. Why I felt so lost. So small. Now I know. Because I was lost. I'm Cupid, Claire!"  
Claire shook her head in disbelief, her voice still soft, speaking almost to herself. "No..."  
The door to Claire's office was still open behind them. Cautiously, Jaclyn cautiously looked in, stopping at the doorway, having overheard. As she listened to Trevor continue, there was concern in Jaclyn's eyes as she saw Claire's reaction.  
Starting to pace excitedly again, Trevor continued to babble. "I'm sure the rest will come back to me, Claire. Like our time together. Like what happened to me while I was here. How I got this scar on my chest... But right now I'm just happy that I finally know who I am! I am... the original Love Gun! The Sultan of Swoon, the one and only Roller Coaster of Love!"  
Trevor began to sing, dancing around in celebration. "_Roller coaster... of LOVE_...."  
Claire's expression fell more with his every pronouncement, losing hope.  
He continued. "I feel so alive! I want to announce it to everybody in the world. Do you think sky writing over every major city would lack subtlety? Or maybe a Cupid festival! To celebrate my coming back from the brain dead! Streamers, strippers, dancers, booze, pin the tail on the scantily clad tail... Or maybe I should have some business cards made up. Something understated and tasteful, like gold lettering and flashing lights. _Roller coaster... of love!_ I don't know. Maybe I--"  
Looking up, Trevor stopped in mid sentence when he finally picked up on the stunned look on Claire's face. She seemed almost, tragic. He blinked, not understanding. He could almost see the tears glittering in her eyes, as if he had just announced that her best friend had died. "Claire... What... what is it?"  
Her breath quivered softly, looking at him, eyes filled with all the despair washing through her, on the edge of tears, holding herself steady. She inhaled, finally allowing it to sink in. Trevor watched her with concern, stepping closer, but she didn't know what to tell him, what to say to him. She had to leave, had to get out of there. The room was spinning. It was over. It was all over. Her hopes, her hopes for... She couldn't let him see her like this.  
Without a word, Claire stepped past him and left her office, giving no explanation as a tear fell down her cheek.  
"Wha-" Dumbfounded, Trevor turned but she didn't stop, leaving him behind. At a complete loss, he looked over at Jaclyn standing in the doorway, trying to make sense of it all.  
"Was it something I said?"  
  
The door to the women's bathroom slammed open. Claire rushed in, sobbing, grateful that there was no one inside. She was alone. Panting, holding the torrent in, Claire tried to gather herself, but her vision blurred as tears formed in her eyes, gently falling down her cheeks. It was all spinning away, lost and out of control. It was over. It was all over. Her and Trevor. Any chance for them to be happy. To be together. It was gone. He would never get better. Claire struggled for what to do, turning in place. She almost dashed out of the restroom again, but she stopped herself. There was no where to go where out there, no where that the emotions churning chaotically through her wouldn't follow. No where to run. Not from this.  
Not knowing what else to do, she leaned back against the wall. Slowly she began to slide down, covering her face with her hands. Settling downwards, her knees came up to her chest and she wrapped her arms around them, feeling awkward and discarded on the floor as she cried. Her sobs echoed softly in the bathroom. It was over. It was really over. All alone, Claire cried, the rest of the bathroom empty around her. as she curled up, sitting against the floor and the wall, she felt so small there, crying, rocking back and forth. There was no one there to comfort her.  
  
The screen of a laptop computer blinked on.  
A woman's hand flipped sadly through her notes.  
There was a soft screech when a chair was pulled from the desk. A notebook was placed beside the computer.  
The living room was dark. Twilight filled the windows. A woman's fingers reluctantly settled over the keyboard, waiting.  
Claire took a deep breath to steady herself, still feeling the cool air on her face after her long crying, even though it had stopped now. The glow of the computer screen reflected off her small round glasses, blocking out the sadness in her eyes. On the screen the cursor waited, blinking. She lowered her head, despair and defeat in her shoulders. The house was empty, quiet around her. On the screen, the cursor blinked. Again. And again. It waited for her, for what she knew she had to do. Full of sadness, she looked up again. And finally she began to type.  
  
_So now we've come to this. This... which is most likely my last entry in Trevor's case file as his doctor. I'm no longer sure it is in Trevor's best interests for me to continue in that capacity, or that I should be the one to oversee his treatment. I wanted to help him, but my feelings got in the way. Now I don't know own what to do anymore.  
Trevor's delusion returned today. He once again believes he is Cupid, the god of love. Despite my best efforts, despite my hopes. I couldn't help him. I failed Trevor. I failed us both. It's hard for me to accept. Harder for me to do. But I have to face that failure. Face that maybe it's time I let go of Trevor's treatment, and of him.  
I feel like I've let him down. Like I've lost him. Like I've lost myself. I so much wanted to discover who he really was, but I couldn't. I couldn't break through the wall of his delusion. I love him. And now, with the return of Cupid, I feel like I've lost my last chance... of finding Trevor._  
  
She stopped typing, looking sadly at what she was admitting, seeing the defeat in her words, seeing her own hopes shattered there. Slowly Claire lowered her head, realizing something. She wasn't ready for that yet. Not to face those conclusions, to face that reality. She couldn't accept that truth. Not yet. Reaching out, she turned the screen off without saving it, her outline dropping sadly into darkness.  
  
Outside, the night was dark, bathing her doorstep in shadow at the foot of her closed front door.  
  


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	4. finding pg 04

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The next morning, light grew dimly across the sky until sunshine was angling down onto the doorstep in front of Claire's house. It was a bright, clear light, falling through the leaves dancing above with the soft breeze of a new dawn. The last memories and remnants of the previous night were gone. After a moment, footsteps were heard on the walkway, clear in the crisp air. Then Trevor walked into view, pausing, looking at her front door.  
There was concern on his face, worry about Claire. He was concerned for how she had reacted to his little announcement yesterday. He wasn't so certain he should be there, not sure that Claire would even want to see him. Standing in front of her door, the sunlight fell through the trees and danced on his face and shoulders. Lifting a fist Trevor started to knock, but he stopped himself, silent for several seconds. Finally thinking better of it, he turned... and walked out of sight, leaving her doorstep. It was quiet fo several long moments. But then eventually... he stepped into view again, stopping in front of her door. The breeze still whispered through the sunlit leaves above him.  
Taking a breath, Trevor started to knock again. Then he noticed something. Trevor stopped and blinked, reaching for the doorknob instead. To his surprise it turned easily in his grip and the door swung inward, already unlocked. It was the only invitation he needed. Without a moment of hesitation he stepped quickly into the house, clicking the door shut behind him.  
Trevor paused in the front entryway, calmly looking over at the quiet rooms of her house all around him. Claire's elegantly furnished living room stretched empty beside him. There was no one in sight. Not a sound was heard.  
"Claire?"  
Listening more carefully, he thought he heard something above him, peaking his interest. Jogging quietly up the staircase, Trevor followed the sound up to the second floor.  
He moved slowly through the upper hallway, taking in the layout of Claire's home with interest. It was all new to him, not able to remember any of it. Trevor's fingers grazed over a vase filled with flowers, arrayed on a small table as he walked past. He looked up at the pictures on her wall. Reaching out, he turned one slightly askew, just barely, knowing it would subconsciously annoy the hell out of her. Stopping to listen once more, a small smile spread on his face when he heard it again. There it was. Running water. From a shower. Coming through the crack of Claire's slightly open bedroom door. It grew louder as he silently approached.  
His eyes sparkling, Trevor gently pushed it open with his palm, looking in. Claire's bedroom was empty, her bathroom door closed. When he stepped in, he was instantly bathed in brilliant colors from where the morning light flowed in through a round stained glass window. The sun glowed brightly through the small opaque opening, filling the air with vivid bars of color.  
Standing in the barrage of light, Trevor smiled in wonder, turning appreciatively to bathe in it, looking all around Claire's bedroom.  
"Wow..."  
His eyes paused on Claire's already made bed, and he stepped closer towards it, admiring the pristine, neatly tucked white sheets spread smoothly before him in the room's gentle light. Watching it fondly, Trevor sighed.  
"Ahh... the promised land."  
He didn't realize that the shower had stopped running until the bathroom door opened and a glistening and very wet Claire Allen stepped out. She had a thick white bath towel just barely draped over her as Trevor gaped in wonder at the sight of her.  
"Trevor!" Claire shrieked when she saw him standing there, instantly darting back into the bathroom as her towel began to slip down, slamming the door shut. Her voice came frantically through. "Trevor, what are you doing? Get out of here!"  
Coming out of his wistful daze, Trevor blinked. "Wow.... Up until the part where you ran screaming in terror, I really hoped I was having THAT dream again..."  
"Trevor, are you insane!"  
"Why does everyone ask me that? Especially wet, semi nude and definitely female therapists?"  
Without a single bit of concern for Claire's frantic reaction, he stepped closer to the closed bathroom door, grinning to himself as he called to her. "You didn't lock the door! Means you don't mind me seeing you naked! Or so I've been told... Hey, I feel like freshening up too... How about you wash my back and I wash your front?"  
Still picturing that brief tantalizing image of her, Trevor started to lean down to peek through the keyhole, when the door opened just a crack, revealing a small part of Claire's wet face, stopping him.  
"You still don't quite have that whole 'non-delusional' thing down, do you?" she said.  
"Claire, I just wanted to check up on you. See how you were doing. I was worried about you. You seemed a little deflated yesterday. Although now, after viewing your little.. barely there shower ensemble, a more accurate description might be ...'perky'. Come back out! There's no shame in nudity! OK, sumo wrestling just sprung to mind, but other than that..."  
She slammed the door shut.  
He smiled. "Relax, Claire. It was nice.... Very, VERY nice. What little I saw. Most definitely impressive. Don't be so uptight. Trust me. I'm not implying anything sexual... I'm just saying, to me your body is.... uplifting. Ok, maybe it's a tiny bit sexual..."  
He could hear the sounds of her getting dressed on the other side of the door. "Gee, Trevor... Ambushing half naked women in their homes... chasing them into locked bathrooms. You really know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"  
He sighed proudly. "Actually, I do. I really do. But I insist you buy me dinner first. Face it, you're an attractive woman Claire. Especially when all you have on is a loose towel and sarcasm. Flaunt it a little! Show it off... You're supposed to _love_ your body. Wait... I think that's my line."  
"You know... I've often put serious thought into a lobotomy to clear up those persistent delusional of yours, Trevor. Then again, you never think with that part of your anatomy anyway..."  
"With a bodily context like that, psychoanalysis actually sounds fun... Besides, you could learn a thing ot two from me, Claire."  
"Hate to disappoint you, Trevor. This isn't the show me state."  
"Hey, I gave them that motto. But I don't think they understood what I was getting at... You should follow my lead, Claire. Get some exposure, put yourself out there..."  
"Oh, you're out there alright..."  
With a smile Trevor turned away from the door. Then he noticed something on the floor. Curious, he walked away without a word, blinking at what he had spotted, wondering what it was.  
Inside the bathroom Claire continued to talk, now dressed for the most part. Already wearing sweatpants, she pulled a t-shirt over her head and down onto her upper body, running her fingers quickly through her still wet hair. "Trevor, you know I appreciate people breaking into my bedroom as much as the next litigant, but maybe just once you could actually try this arcane custom called knocking instead of your standard breaking and entering. I realize you still have all those 'but I'm a god' entitlement issues, but that doesn't give you license to barge into my bedroom when I'm getting out of the shower. I don't know... Maybe I could fit you with some sort of warning collar. Or a bell. Something tight. That chafes..."  
Still drying her hair, Claire paused before exiting her door, warning him. "Trevor, if you aren't fully clothed when I come out, I swear, I'll-"  
She finally stepped out into her bedroom. Stopping, she looked around in surprise. The room was empty. No one was there.  
"Trevor?"  
Claire searched for him, turning her head back and forth, slowly drying her hair. He was no where in sight. She called out into the rest of the house. "And I know exactly how much underwear I have in this room! Trevor..?"  
Claire stopped when she noticed something. The brown cardboard box she had kept on the floor under the window was now on top of her bed. She hadn't left it there. Hurrying forward, she quickly looked through the items that were in it, realizing instantly what was missing. Trevor must have seen it. The box held all his personal effects, things Trevor had been found with when they had brought him in to the hospital. Things she had taken from his room. Things she had hidden from him. Now, one of them was missing. Her face fell.  
"Great..." Her voice felt weary even to her ears, tired and beaten. Frantically, she darted out of her bedroom after him.  
Claire's front door slammed open as she ran out into the glow of the morning sun bathing her walkway. That golden light glistened in her wet hair as she ran over to the sidewalk in her bare feet, searching all around. She spotted him in the distance, walking angrily away.  
"Trevor!"  
Claire ran up from behind Trevor and fell into step beside him, but he didn't look at her. His face was hard, angry in the new day's light as he looked straight ahead and not at her. The sun was bright on both their faces. Claire's bare feet moved gingerly across the icy cement, trying to match his angry pace. She kept looking down to watch her steps, even as she tried to calm him. Draped over Trevor's shoulder was his string of beads. The beads he had previously used to keep score of his matches. The beads he had found hidden in her bedroom.  
"Trevor, I can explain..."  
He didn't look at her, his voice soft and bitter, speaking almost to himself. "I don't know why I didn't see it faster. Why I didn't put it all together yesterday..."  
"Put what together Trevor?"  
She still hurried along, barefoot beside him, her hair cold and glistening wet. He didn't seem to have heard her, still muttering. "Guess I was too excited. Too elated that I remembered my identity. Didn't put two and two together. Must have been struck blind... Our sessions. Why I had to meet with you all this time... Never saw it till now..."  
Claire winced as she accidentally stepped on a sharp rock on the cement. But she didn't slow down. "Trevor, if we could just talk--"  
His voice was harder when he finally spoke to her. "That was it, wasn't it? I finally figured it out! That was why you were treating me. Why we met in the first place. You were treating me because of Cupid! And you intentionally kept that little fact away from me, lying to me this whole time... Keeping any other little secrets I should know about, Claire? Hey, why not... Doesn't count if you think I'm insane, right?"  
She looked at him tenderly, trying to ignore the pain in her left foot as they walked together. "I do think you need help, Trevor. But that doesn't mean that I think that you're-"  
"I can't believe I was so stupid..." He shook his head, firing an angry glare at her. "I trusted you Claire!"  
"Trevor, I _am_ on your side here."  
He stopped walking, facing her bitterly. "Funny... because from my side, it looks like you lied to me the whole time. You knew exactly who I was."  
"I still don't know who you are!" Frustrated, she pushed her wet hair back, the sun in her eyes. "I'm trying to help you!"  
"How? By hiding who I am?"  
"You are not Cupid, Trevor."  
He moaned in annoyance, starting to walk again.  
Claire followed beside him, not letting him leave her.  
"No! You're not! Trevor, you're not some immortal god. There's no magical place called Olympus. Trevor, there's.... there's no THERE there!"  
He shook his head. "When I saw these beads, when I picked them up out of that box, I finally realized... They were mine. You had no right to keep them from me!"  
"Trevor, you don't know what the world almost did to you.."  
"I know, I'm remembering more of it all the time. You haven't been honest with me ever, have you?"  
She spoke more forcefully. "Well what did you expect, Trevor!"  
He stopped again, glaring at her.  
Her voice was softer, looking sadly into his eyes. "Be honest... Which is more likely. That Cupid is just your way of hiding from some previous pain? Or that you really are the god of love. A fictional creation. Bereft of power, or of proof. And most importantly... bereft of any pain anymore. What would you have believed in my place?"  
"That I could have trusted you...." Hurt simmered deep in his eyes as he looked at her, his voice soft.   
Claire felt what she had done to him, saw it in his face. She had never felt so helpless. Had she done anything right? It was like a rift had opened up between them, and she didn't know how to heal it. After a moment she looked down slowly, crossing her arms around her, cold and uncomfortable, standing barefoot on the sidewalk. They stood silently before each other in the morning air, bathed from head to toe in the sun's golden light.  
When she spoke, her voice seemed broken, small and lost.  
"Trevor... I don't know what I'm doing anymore..."  
His voice didn't ease, still sharp with anger. "You knew enough to hide these from me, Claire. You think I'm the one with the problem? You hid my stuff from me! Maybe you're the one with the problem, lady..."  
With a hard look on his face he turned and walked away, leaving her there with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.  
"Trevor..." Tentatively she reached out, but she didn't follow him as he left. With a frustrated breath, she watched his retreating form fade into the glare of the sunlight bright in her eyes.  
Pulling her arms tighter in because of the cold morning air, Claire looked around. She was barefoot, wet and alone on the hard sidewalk, arms around herself, with no one there. Finally Claire turned and walked back home, no longer caring about what rocks she stepped on.  
  
Trevor sat uncomfortably in Claire's office  
He was seated in his usual chair, facing Claire's desk, waiting for her to show up. The seat behind her desk was empty. A clock ticked loudly in the silence. She was late. For once he had been precisely on time. Trevor started tapping his fingers slowly on the armrest of his chair, feeling angsty, and more and more jumpy the longer he had to wait. He crossed his legs, pausing in a deliberate casual pose, before crossing them back again, undecided. He started to lean forwards, but leaned back instead, unsure where to put his hands. All he knew was that he needed to keep moving, not wanting to let the room's noiseless wail penetrate any deeper into his already stimulus deprived mind.  
Trevor crossed his legs again and leaned back, giving an imaginary Claire in the chair before him a seductive look, raising an eyebrow, trying to angle his face around to get it right.  
"How _YOU_ doin'..." he said huskily. "How... how you... doin'..."  
That didn't divert him for long. Still feeling anxious, he finally stood up and started to pace. Claire was never late. HE was the one who was supposed to be late. If he was the one left waiting, where was the fun in that? A ball of pent up energy, Trevor started snapping his fingers together as he glanced up at the clock. It kept ticking. Louder and louder, unstoppable. Tick. Tick. Finally he walked over to the closed office door and opened it enough to stick his face out.  
"Anything?"  
Jaclyn looked up from her seat behind the reception desk. She had been nervously tapping her pencil against the stack of work she was ignoring, waiting for Claire to show up too.  
"No, Trevor. Nothing..."  
Trevor nodded and quickly pulled back, closing the door.  
Jaclyn was left alone in the reception area. With concern in her eyes, she looked down the hallway directly before her. It was empty. Would Claire show up? After seeing her reaction to Trevor's announcement yesterday, Jaclyn was in no way certain she would. Barely ten seconds had passed when the office door opened again and Trevor poked his head out once more.  
"How about now?" he asked impatiently.  
Jaclyn smiled. "No Trevor... Look the second she shows up, I'll... I'll beep you or something."  
Trevor thought about that. "Are you propositioning me?"  
"Only in your world would 'beep you' constitute a come on, Trevor."  
He seemed disappointed. "Damn... I was hoping it was. Might pass the time..."  
The office door was quickly shut again, Trevor disappearing inside. Blushing, Jaclyn didn't buy it, and she began counting softly to herself.  
"One... Two... Thr-"  
The door opened again. "You sure? Because despite rampant feminine testimonials to the contrary, I can do it quickly..."  
Jaclyn looked over at him, ignoring that. "Why are you so eager for Claire to show? I though you were mad at her."  
Trevor stammered, defensive. "I-I was... I mean, I... I am... just... just not anymore... Ok, I'm weak, I admit it. For some reason I just can't stay mad at Claire for long..."  
Looking down, Jaclyn smiled knowingly to herself, thinking. "Guess it is blind after all..."  
He didn't get it. "Huh?"  
"Nothing..." Jaclyn didn't explain any further. "Normally you despise these sessions with Claire, Trevor. So why now? You know she'll never believe you..."  
Trevor gave her a level look, as if it were obvious. "You've... actually _seen_ Claire, right?"  
"Sure."  
"No, I mean naked."  
"Naked? Meaning who? Her or me?"  
He thought for a moment. "Yes."  
"Trevor, how is it that any blood ever gets to your brain at all?"  
"God like circulatory powers..." He drummed his fingers on the doorway, leaning out to look down the hallway. "Where is she? Has she called? Done any of the usual Claire-ish stuff? Faxed in her latest hourly itinerary? Or a freshly written tardiness form in triplicate? Sapped the fun out of the room with a disapproving phone call? Thrown herself on the wrath of the vengeful punctuality gods? You know... act like Claire I mean..."  
Standing up, Jaclyn walked over to a file cabinet to put away the work she wasn't working on anyway. She came closer to where his face was poking through Claire's door. "Trevor, I've been meaning to ask you something--"  
"Oh that. Ok... most people don't understand that your supposed to apply the lubricant _before_ you actually start to-" he twisted his hands in mid-air.  
Jaclyn interrupted him. "You think you're Cupid. Claire thinks you're deluded. Doesn't the fact that she's constantly trying to 'fix' you bother you at all?"  
"Well I..." He blinked. "There have... there have been a few fun parts, sorta..." He didn't sound very convinced. "Occasionally..."   
Jaclyn leaned against the wall beside the door, looking at him. "I know how lock step Claire can be when it comes to her work. She's never met a potential psychosis she didn't like, so..."  
He shrugged it off. "Claire can't change any of the parts of me that matter... Well, not in a _bad_ way I mean... Besides, there's more to our sessions than just the mind numbing pain of psychoveranalyzing things to death. There's also all that unspeakable sexual tension to look forward to...."  
"Hmm. Fond sentiment like that really warms the heart Trevor."  
"Oh, not the heart..." Trevor looked at her leaning there near him. "Are you really sure about before? Because this door locks and I could clear off her desk-"  
In answer Jaclyn shoved his face back into Claire's office and closed the door. As she returned to the reception desk, she heard footsteps behind her and she turned, looking down the hallway.  
It was Claire. She was walking calmly forward, a resolved look on her face as she approached. Jaclyn quickly ran over to her.  
"Claire... Where have you been? You're forty minutes late. I started to wonder if you were coming..."  
Claire lowered her eyes. "Join the club..."  
"Trevor's been waiting inside the whole time. He got so bored he even resorted to propositioning me..."  
"Yeah, what did he do the second minute?" Claire's voice was soft, without much enthusiasm. She looked at her closed office door as she walked past it, putting her files and things down on the reception desk. "I almost didn't come at all..."  
Standing beside Claire at the desk, Jaclyn looked up at her, curious. "Why did you? What changed your mind?"  
Thinking of how to explain, Claire sighed. "Jaclyn... If I back out now... I don't know what the next doctor will do to Trevor. What radical treatment might be attempted next, just to cover up their failures... You know they won't get any further than I have. I--... even if I can't cure him, I can at least keep up the pretense. And keep Trevor out of a mental institution...."  
Jaclyn seemed curious, pressing further. "And that's all? That's the only reason? Don't you have something to tell him? Like how the two of you felt for each other?"  
Claire turned to face her, tired resolve in her sad eyes. "I've given up, Jaclyn... I'll keep him safe. But I won't kid myself into thinking I have any chance of curing him. Or of being with him."  
"But what about you and Trevor finally together?"  
"Maybe it's time I opened my eyes.... It's not going to happen. We're not going to happen. And he doesn't need to know about it. I just can't do this anymore, Jaclyn. Wrestling with what I know I can't change... in either of us. Whether I like it or not, I've got to accept things the way they are."  
For a long moment, Jaclyn looked into her eyes. "Sounds like a sad way to live a life..."  
Claire exhaled. "Yeah. Well... I've lost hope for anything else..."  
She turned towards her office door. Claire took a deep breath, gathering herself, more resolved than before. She opened the door and slowly went inside, closing it gently behind her.  
Jaclyn stood there, watching the closed door of Claire's office, reading the gold lettering on the frosted glass.  
  


**Dr. Claire Allen.**

  
Jaclyn blinked, trying to take in what had just happened.  
"Guess it's over then..." She said sadly to herself, going back to her work.  
  
"She just seems so withdrawn lately..." Trevor spoke in a soft voice as he threw the next bit of popcorn.  
It was afternoon. Trevor and Allison were laying next to each other on the couch in their apartment. They were leaning back, sprawled out in relaxed positions. Occasionally they threw popcorn at the television screen where a football game was playing, trying to hit whichever player was carrying the ball, having lost interest in the game long ago.  
Popcorn arched out of their hands. Allison's legs were stretched out on her battered coffee table in front of her, her exposed skin smooth and supple. She was leaning back beside Trevor, wearing shorts and a snug white t-shirt that emphasized her beautiful womanly shape. Beside her Trevor was completely at ease, even with her attractive body pressed in close. Popcorn kernels flew through the air as they talked. There was already a scattered cluster of them on the floor in front of the tv.  
Trevor continued. "Something's bothering Claire. And I'm gonna find out what..."  
Allison popped a kernel into her mouth, chewing as she pointed at the screen and eagerly sat up, leaning forward. "There he is, Trevor. Quarterback guy. Cute and immensely fine in tight clingy stretch pants..." She pelted him with popcorn.  
Trevor protested. "Hey, he's not the ball carrier..."  
"He can play with me any day... Hey you're the god of love. Maybe you could arrange for me and him to have a little private tackle session." Her eyes sparkled. "I only need an hour or so..."  
Trevor was still lost in his thoughts about Claire, absently lobbing another kernel of popcorn at the screen, completely oblivious to what Allison had asked. Turning towards him when he didn't answer, she glanced down. Her exposed leg had grazed softly against his. She smiled at the sensation, but he didn't seem to notice how close her body was pressed in beside his.  
"I think I know what Claire's problem is," Trevor was lost in his thoughts. "She's in love... Has to be. No one gets into a funk like that without a broken heart being the cause. Not this side of botched rectal surgery, I mean. Some guy has squeezed her heart and not let go. So... her flame to my moth... The love god comes forth. I find this person, and then... then I guess, maybe I... I don't know... should get them together or something."  
Allison looked over at the sound of his voice. "You almost sound like you don't want to."  
He protested lightly, feigning a certainty he didn't feel. "Of-Of course I want to. I--... I'm the god of love. Why wouldn't I? Besides, it's what I do. If I can get Claire a little hip range bump and grind going, maybe she'll unclench with me a little. See that she's wrong about me. Anyway, I have a job to do. Beads don't move themselves. And I just want her to be happy..."  
Allison sighed. "Trevor, all you've done all day is talk about Claire. Why are you obsessing?"  
"I'm not, it's just... She thinks I'm crazy."  
"So what? Happens to lots of people everyday. Why do you care what she thinks?"  
"Because..." He searched for a response. "...she has the binding legal authority to lock me up? And when you take out the spanking, her binding isn't nearly as fun..."  
Allison looked at him, waiting for a serious answer.  
Trevor sighed. "I just want to prove to her that my being Cupid is a good thing. That there's nothing wrong with me. If I fix her little problem and she's pole vaulting on and into bed again, maybe she'll see me in a better light. Anyway, I hate seeing her like this when I know I can do something about it, that's all..."  
Her face softened as she considered what she heard in Trevor's voice. "You really care about her don't you?"  
He tried to laugh it off. "Yeah right... What, Mrs. passion-less, things in common, putting the anal in analytical, so called relationship expert? Let's just call it a professional morbid fascination."  
Allison blinked, thinking. "All those times you've propositioned her. All the innuendoes. The come ons...I thought you wanted to be the one pole vaulting into her bed. Wouldn't this... this new guy put a crimp in that?"  
"Ouch." Trevor winced at the image before continuing. "Hey, I'm not saying I'd be against a little one on one Claire Bear wrestling on the side. Or the back. Or the front--have you seen her front? It's all good. But I've done this stuff for thousands of years. I'm a professional. I won't let the ache in my loins get in the way of the ache in her heart. Claire deserves to find her true love..."  
Allison propped herself up on one elbow and pressed her point, turning to face him. "You sure that's the only reason?"  
"Course it is. What else would it be..."  
Allison looked at him for a long moment, surprised. Her eyes were tender, a small smile on her face, touched by his feelings for Claire. Before Trevor knew it, Allison confidently leaned in and gave him a deep, electrifying kiss on the lips. Her hand gently lifted, their lips together as it traced across his jaw line. The room went silent, both swept away by that sudden fiery touch. Surprised and caught off guard, Trevor didn't fight it, keeping his hands at his sides as he closed his eyes and let her kiss him.  
Softly, their lips parted. The room around them seemed less immediate. The tv seemed to drone off in the distance. They looked into each other's eyes, considering each other, their soft breathing more pronounced and flushed. There was no shame in Allison's face, still smiling tenderly at him.  
She leaned in again, slower this time, watching him. He watched too, not taken by surprise. Trevor's lips were still tingling from her first kiss. As her face came near, he could feel her mouth hovering warmly next to his. Her lips stopped millimeters from contact, parted, waiting. She breathed, imperceptibly leaning closer, until the thinnest edges of their lips touched. There was a palpable tension, a yearning in both of them, waiting...  
Until Trevor pulled back, stopping himself.  
Allison pulled back too, smiling at him. She didn't seem upset at all, as if she had confirmed something.  
Trevor blinked, a little embarrassed that the so called god of love couldn't go through with it. "I--... I can't... And I don't know why..."  
Allison's eyes filled with understanding, even more certain than before. "Yes. You do..."  
With a contented grin Allison leaned back again, stretching out on the couch beside him and watching the game again. Still trying to catch up, Trevor did the same. She seemed pleased with herself after seeing the obvious reaction she had caused in him. Beside her, Trevor slid his palm over his chin and mouth, trying to compose himself.  
Not looking at him, Allison popped another popcorn kernel into her mouth, teasing him lightly. "I've wanted to do that all morning, Trevor. Tried to tell you as much, but you're a hell of a one for taking a hint. Little love god's as blind as a bat today. For awhile I wondered if maybe it was just that whole 'no sex with mortals' godly decree-"  
"You mean I can't have sex with mortals?!!" Trevor was genuinely stunned, popcorn spilling into his lap as he stared in disbelief.  
Allison wasn't paying attention, thinking to herself. "That's not what stopped you though."   
There was a gentle light in her eyes when she looked at him knowingly. "Maybe you should tell her..."  
He didn't have to ask who she meant, leaning back. With a tiny smile he looked down. "Tell her what."  
She smiled. "How you feel... how you fell..."  
Trevor chuckled softly to himself, looking away. He started to toss popcorn at the football game again, saying nothing.  
Smiling as she watched him for a moment, Allison looked away too.  
The kernels continued to fly out from both of them, as the afternoon deepened in the windows behind them. Soon, they began throwing popcorn at each other. They laughed as they got up and began to chase each other around the room, pelting the other's running forms more popcorn dotted the floor.  
  
Claire was reading one of the lower headlines in the newspaper she held. She was at home, the paper in her hands as she read the text.  
  
**

OVERSIGHT REVIEW SET FOR NEXT WEEK  
AS NEW YORK DOCTOR/PATIENT SEX SCANDAL DEEPENS

**  
  
Her brown eyes traveled over the words sadly, reading about the firestorm that was raging through the New York psychology circles. All because of the blossoming scandal of a doctor using his therapeutic position to bed his female patients. She blinked. What would the headliners think of her and Trevor? She put the paper down, silent. After a moment, she gazed forlornly out of her front window. Her house was quiet as she sat alone on the couch. Not surprising, really. Lately her entire days had been quiet. She hadn't been feeling very talkative lately. Suddenly her phone rang, and she picked it up.  
"Hello?"  
Trevor's voice came through. He immediately started talking as if they were in the middle of a conversation that hadn't stopped. "Like I was saying, here's the deal Sparky. I've been thinking about your 'condition'..."  
She blinked. "MY...condition?"  
"Yeah. I've decided I'm going to help you out. You're in love with someone Claire. Someplace where it still hurts. I'll find out who he is, lock the two of you in a jacuzzi with a drink bar handy, and bam!!! Things get patched up. That simple. I'll track down that lucky stiff and make him one lucky stiff again. Sound good?"  
Claire sighed, exhausted. "Trevor..."  
"No need to thank me doc. Just consider yourself blessed that you're treating the god of love. You alone get prime access to the wonder, that is, I. Because... let's face it. Keep this gloom and doom act up, you'll end up making 'No meat night' at Sizzler look like happy camp."  
"You're still on this, Trevor? Can't you kill a different horse to beat on?"  
"Hey. Your dead horse is horse enough, Claire."  
"Or... maybe just once you might try thinking outside of that tiny delusional box, Trevor..."  
He began to sing. "_In and out and and in and..._'Mama's got a Squeeze Box'. The WHO, 1975... See? I haven't forgotten everything..."  
"Not that kind of box, Trevor."  
"Humh? Wait, squeeze... Oh!!! Squeeze! Is that what that song was about? I just thought mama was really gifted musically. Wow... I knew I liked that song for a reason... I'm going to find your true love, Claire. This guy your pinning away for. You'll see. There's nothing wrong with me... Safe to say, you are definitely at the top of my things to do list. Just now in a different way..."  
Unenthused, she lowered her eyes. "Goodbye, Trevor."  
She hung up.  
Trevor smiled as he held the payphone to his ear. Behind him a car whooshed by on the street with it's headlights on. Trevor was standing by a small payphone stand, alone on the sidewalk. Hanging the phone up, he turned from it and sighed contently. There was a new eagerness in his eyes. Above him, the darkening sky was turning into fiery reds as he stood and watched the disc of the sun disappear behind the black outlines of Chicago's skyscrapers. Near him, a street light high in the air fluttered bright for a moment, then slowly it's dim light grew brighter from it's center against a dark azure sky.  
Trevor nodded, feeling better. He smiled, knowing he had a purpose now.  
"So it begins...."  
He walked off down the sidewalk, one solitary figure fading into the distance. A god on a mission.  
  
Trevor's bedroom was still dark, covered in the dim shadows of the pre dawn morning. The small alarm beside his bed suddenly blared to life, loud and shrill. Trevor instantly jerked up in his sheets, startled by its piercing squeal as his awareness struggled up through the fog of his sleep. Holding his ears desperately between one hand and a pillow, he tried to protect them from the shrill tone of the alarm as his free hand fumbled over, reaching for the mute button. As he pawed at it the alarm slipped off the table and fell to the floor, still ringing loudly. Trevor fell clumsily out of bed, scrambling to pick it up, frantically trying to shut the alarm off. He turned it over quickly in his hands, searching. Finally he jammed down on the button, but it didn't work. Nothing worked. The alarm continued, slicing into his brain. Cursing in ancient Roman and Greek, he started to follow the electrical cord, pulling it frenetically towards him, searching for where the alarm was plugged into the wall.  
Out of nowhere, the plunging alarm clock smashed to pieces on the dark asphalt of the quiet street beneath Trevor's bedroom window. Far above, Trevor rubbed his temple in the shadowy light of the early morning, leaning out of his upper floor window after banging his head against it when he had rushed over to it to hurl out the alarm. The air felt cool on his skin, as above the sky brightened minimally. Still trying to wake up, Trevor wearily looked down, his face turning to disgust as he looked at the smashed pieces of the alarm. A large newspaper van suddenly drove into view down the street with it's headlights on, smashing the pieces even further as it sped over them.  
Trevor exhaled, his voice coarse and weary.  
"I hate the 21st century..."  
Leaning back in, he slammed the window shut.  
Yawning, Trevor stumbled around the sink counter and into his dark kitchen. He knew Allison was probably still asleep upstairs. Suddenly he was bathed in light from inside the refrigerator as he opened it, revealing his sleepy, stubbled face. With his eyelids half shut, he set an empty glass down on top of the refrigerator, leaving it there. His hand reached into the lighted interior, before he brought his fist up and cracked it on the rim of the glass in the darkness. A raw egg slurped from the broken shell in his palm to the bottom of the cup. Reaching down, Trevor did it again, until another egg yolk joined it. Then another. And another slurp. Five had gathered now. When the sixth egg's innards had congealed and mixed into the slimy mess with the others, Trevor breathed out and picked up the glass. He tilted it back to his mouth and let the six raw egg yolks slowly slurp down past his lips and into his throat, some of the yellowish clear strands dripping down onto his chin. With his mouth now full, Trevor paused, a curious look on his face as he considered the sensation. The mass was still sliding down his throat.. slowly, on it's own. Instantly he dashed over to the sink and coughed it all back up.  
"Looked cooler in the movie..." he gagged  
A small stereo rested on the counter. Reaching out as he wiped his mouth, Trevor pushed the play button. The music began, an energetic upbeat song. Fast and lively, Trevor hoped it would wake him up.  
  
** _I'm so cool, too bad I'm a loser..._  
  
** Trevor listened with a smile, trying to pump himself up for the task at hand. He looked out of his living room window just in time to see the glittering edge of the morning sun poke up above the shadowed building's in the distance as it rose. Trevor smiled into the new day, then he turned and got to work.  
  
** _I'm so smart, too bad I can't get anything figured out..._  
  
** Morning filled Claire's office as well. The sun was shining golden in her windows. She stepped around the side of her desk and turned to face the laptop computer sitting on top of her desk as the sun rose ever higher behind her. She settled into her chair, starting a new work day and flipping on the computer's power, waiting for the screen to brighten before she got to work.  
  
** _I'm so brave, too bad I'm a baby..._  
  
** In Trevor's apartment, the light over the kitchen table came on, softly brightening the round table below. Books suddenly were thrown into view, tossed onto the table in the dim glow of morning light. Looking down, the room seemed to turn slowly around them, as more and more books joined the others on the table. Allison's thick, battered Chicago phonebook plopped into view. Followed by freshly ordered school yearbooks, both high school and college. A folded up singles section from the morning newspaper joined the mix (worth a shot). A hard cover labeled The Who's Who of recent authors, replete with biographical information followed behind. Then there was a printout of a list of names and phone numbers from Claire's hospital. Still looking down, a chair was pulled out from the table's edge as the room continued to spin slowly. Taking the chair, Trevor settled into place, putting an empty legal pad and a pencil beside him.  
Trevor looked over all the books he had gathered, sighing at how much there was. Finally he opened one, and dove into his research on Claire.  
  
** _I'm so fly, that's probably why  
it feels just like I'm falling for the first time..._  
  
** Looking down onto Claire's desk, her laptop computer screen was glowing too. She reopened Trevor's case file, deciding to try again to cure him no matter how hopeless it was. Her elegant fingers danced over the keyboard as she typed. Around her, the office seemed to spin slowly. Words flowed smoothly onto her screen, hearing them clearly in her mind.  
_ Case #092698. Subject: Trevor Hale. Latest entry, charting the course of my continuing treatment of said subject's abiding delusional architecture, called... Cupid._  
  
** _I'm so green, it's really amazing..._  
  
** Trevor's kitchen slowly spun around him too. Looking down at him in the now brighter morning light, he was hunched over several open books, scribbling sloppily into his legal pad, engrossed in writing down notes, wild theories, corrections... Stopping to read one of them, it suddenly seemed totally out in left field, and he quickly erased it from the paper.  
Claire's lip wrinkled, frowning at her screen. She didn't like the analysis she had just typed in. Moving the cursor over, she quickly highlighted it and deleted the section.  
  
** _I'm so clean, to bad I can't get this dirt off of me..._  
  
** Trevor's fingertips were gray with pencil graphite as he ran them back through his hair and considered the mass of notes and information in front of him, at a loss. He needed more specifics, more details. Reaching over, he slid an office rolodex closer to him, starting to turn through all the name cards.  
Seated in her office, Claire reached out for her rolodex, usually on top of her desk. There was just some information she didn't trust leaving on the computer, and she wanted to re-examine some old potential theories she had about who Trevor was, and where he came from. But her hand still hadn't touched anything, groping blindly. After a moment she looked over, blinking in surprise when she realized that for some reason her rolodex wasn't there.  
  
** _I'm so sane, it's driving me crazy..._  
  
** Trevor flipped to the next card in Claire's rolodex, quickly dialing a number. Someone answered on the other end and Trevor began to speak.  
"Hi, This is Dr. Hale. I'm a professional... colleague of Dr. Claire Allen's, from Chicago General? Umm, right. That's the one. I was calling because I'm currently working with Dr. Allen's publisher on a biographic profile for her upcoming book, and I though you might be able to help me with some of her close personal history, specifically, romantic--"  
  
** _It's so strange I can't believe it  
Feels just like I'm falling for the first time..._  
  
** There was consternation on Claire's face. She looked through her old case notes by hand, searching for any clue into Trevor's delusion that she might have missed before in one of her countless attempts. She wasn't ready to give up on his case just yet. But maddeningly, as much as she looked, there was nothing. She rubbed her brow. And now her head was starting to hurt.  
Trevor smiled in response, the phone nestled against his ear. "Great... That's great. Great story, but... I was hoping for a little bit more personal insight into Claire. A more... explicit insight. Something salacious. You wouldn't happen to know the last person was who... bounced her bed sheets lately would you? Hello? He-"  
He tousled the the cradle button on his phone but it was no use. The line had gone dead. They had hung up. With a sigh, he crossed another name off his call list, moving on to the next rolodex card.  
"Hi, My name's Dr. Hale, and I'm doing a study on-"  
  
** _ Anyone perfect must be lying.  
Anything easy has it's cost..._  
  
** In her office, Claire was on the phone too. "Hi Bob, it's me... Claire Allen. Yeah, I was assigned a new case today and I was looking for a little more info on a patient file, a patient named Rachel Winter, so I was wondering if you... Great. Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.. What? No, I... No my assistant hasn't called you today. No... no I haven't... No, I'm not working on another book..."  
Claire paused, confused, wondering what was going on.  
Trevor jerked his head back from the receiver against his ear as the profanity laden tirade stopped when the woman hung up. The expletives were still ringing in his ears. He blinked, realizing that specific investigative avenue was a bust. As he hung up the phone he looked wistfully down at his long list of Claire's old high school friends, regretfully crossing out a name.  
"Sandra's off the love list... Probably just wishful thinking on my part..."  
  
** _Anyone plain can be lovely,  
anything loved can be lost..._  
  
** Claire was exasperated, staring blankly ahead in disbelief as she held the phone receiver against her ear. Her voice was weary, soft and annoyed. "For the last time, James.... No... I am not writing some sort of illustrated sex book..."  
Trevor laughed, still on the phone. "Right! Glad you remember me. I hadn't realized that I had already met Claire's sister. So... I was wondering if you could tell... What? No, I mean that's certainly intriguing, but I don't--... Wow... I've never tried that... I mean, I don't see how you could even balance that on your--... I'm, I'm flattered, really. You're the first woman I've heard who could do that... Yes, I know you're Claire sister, but honestly, I don't remember ever seeing you naked... So maybe you could help me with Claire's--... Dumped her? What do you mean, have I dumped Claire? Hello? Hello?"  
Trevor shrugged as he hung up the phone.  
"What was that about?"  
  
** _What if I lost my direction? What if I lost my sense of time..._  
  
** Claire's fingers were typing even faster, flying fast and concise over the keys of her computer, filling screen after screen with text.  
Trevor was scribbling frantically, making barely legible notes in his haste, his marks filling page after page with jumble.  
The room gently spun around him. The room gently spun around her. Claire's eyes moved over her computer screen, reading what she had typed and hearing it in her head.  
  
_ Although I have continued in my attempts to dissuade Trevor Hale's delusional identity, so far it has been without any pertinent results. Every option has failed. Every avenue has led to nowhere. He still adamantly clings to that persona, and tries constantly to convince me that he's truly the god of love. Which put simply, is obviously impossible. Trevor Hale is in no way god like. He's barely adult-like. And even if he were the god of love, if that truly was his identity... where did his genetic code come from? Where did his human body come from? His blood, his muscles, his soft brown eyes. His... hairline. _   
  
** _What if I nursed this infection? Maybe the worst is behind..._  
  
** Trevor switched from his research notes to pick up the notebook Claire had given him. It was the 'dream' journal she had wanted him to start. He had left it empty until now, but finally he started his first entry, writing into it with a pen, as if speaking to her.  
  
_ So here at last is that journal you wanted from me, Sparky. You wanted me to record my dreams. Instead this will be documentation. A historical record of my incredibly adept and immensely qualified efforts at finally 'getting you some'. You are now my pet project, Sparky. Everything else is on hold. This may not be one of those useless comatose sleep thingees you hoped for, but showing you up IS a sorta dream of mine. So this will have to do. Besides you want the truth? You couldn't handle the truth! Not of what I really dream about. Not without a sedative, a cold shower, and an even stronger pulsing hand held spray nozzle. So pay attention Sparky. And take notes... This is your shining example on putting couples together, doc. Free of charge. The right way... _  
Claire smiled at that and shook her head at Trevor's audacity. She read over some of her old case files, she turned to her computer again and started typing her thoughts.  
  
_ Obviously Trevor's profound delusional state remains constant and pervasive. It is a part of him, unalterable, untenable, and dominating his personality, his psyche, his life and dreams. Perhaps this overwhelming drive to help people find their true love, masks some similar latency in his own past love life. And yet despite these suspicions, I have no doubt that his caring is genuine. That his heart is ultimately in the right place. Perhaps that's what mental illness is. An extreme exaggeration of those genuine parts inside all of us. Trevor's no exception. In the end, like Cupid, or perhaps Icarus, maybe he finally fell from reality because he loved too much..._  
** _And it feels just like I'm falling for the first time.._  
  
** Trevor laughed, knowing what Claire would think. He was still alone in his apartment, writing in his journal as the room slowly spun around him.  
_ You can't love too much, Claire. It's impossible. There can never be too much love in the world. It's a bottomless well. Why do you think they call it falling in love? I'm going to show you that again, put you back together with whoever this person is hurting your heart. For the next few weeks, this will be my overriding goal, even above picturing you naked. So buckle up, Claire. Made a list, checked it twice. Called all your buddies, naughty and nice. But not as naughty as I hoped. Still, I __will_ find him. The love of your life. The person your pitter patter little heart is longing and yearning for. I'll bring him back to you. Or her... if you e-mail me the pictures...  
** _I'm so chill, no wonder I'm freezing..._  
  
** In Claire's office, the afternoon light was coming through her windows. She didn't notice, still typing.  
  
_ I know I still hold out some small hope out for Trevor's rehabilitation. But no hope for us together as a couple. Both seem equally pointless at this point. We're both far too stubborn and entrenched to change, least of all each other. So there's no real alternative, not beyond his apostasy or my own. What hope remains after that? I'm back to where I was, trying to find who out he really is, and who I really am... That's what I need to cure him. and maybe to finally love him... But that's still only a fantasy. It's impossible. Trevor doesn't know how I feel, and he never will. I can't let that happen. Guess the fairy tales were wrong. Love doesn't conquer all..._   
  
Trevor nodded.  
_ I can hear your practical, cynical mind working and turning it's gears from here, Claire. You may not believe it, but love does conquer all...  
_  
  
**_I'm so still, I just can't keep my fingers out of anything..._  
  
** Trevor walked down a crowded city sidewalk. He held an empty book sleeve in his hand, having swiped it from a book in the bookstore. The back fold had Claire's picture on it. It was from her book. In the warm afternoon light he randomly stopped people walking by, showing them her picture and asking questions. As he continued down the sidewalk, he still heard the words he had written in his journal in his head.  
_ But no one said it happens easily..._  
  
Claire sighed, looking again at the lines of text glowing form her laptop plasma screen. Her face softened, and she began to type again.  
  
In my moments of intellectual weakness, and despite my concerns, I occasionally consider if there may be something to Trevor's worldview. Nothing heavy medication couldn't cure of course...  
  
** _I'm so thrilled, to finally be feeling..._  
  
** The floor tiles in the hospital hallway were clean and shiny, reflecting Trevor's body as he walked down the hall. He stopped an orderly passing by and started asking the man questions. For once Trevor was surprised when the gossipy orderly started to provide some answers. Pulling out his notepad, Trevor quickly scribbled down what the orderly was telling him.  
Wearing a white lab coat, Claire walked though the hospital's lock down ward, her ID badge bouncing on her pocket. As she passed, she looked sadly at the people locked up there, unable to stop herself. Somehow, she kept seeing Trevor's face there instead of theirs. Claire turned away, buzzing out through the security door and walking into the public part of the hospital.  
  
** _I'm so done turn me over 'cause it  
feels just like I'm falling for the first time...._  
  
** Trevor rounded a corner in the hospital, expression pleased. Until he spotted her. Claire was coming towards him. Smile dropping, he instantly scrambled into a broom closet, shutting the door closed. Claire walked right passed it, not having seen him. After a moment, he opened it a crack, watching her leave. The last thing he wanted was for Claire to find him and stop his hospital information sources. This place was a goldmine for gossip. But Claire was still in sight, talking to someone, blinking in surprised at what the man told her.  
Trevor noticed a hospital food tray near his door. As Claire stood there in the distance talking, his hand reached out, pulling the tray into the closet with him and closing the door.  
Trevor was back at home, his notes a chaotic mess. They were filled with names and possibilities, a scrambled jumble of circled prospects, arrows interlocking various opinions, doodles of Claire naked, some conjectures and theories, more naked doodles... Trevor sighed, exhausted, feeling weighed down, no closer to his goal than he had been.  
  
** _Anything plain can be lovely, anything loved can be lost,  
Maybe I lost my direction, what if our love is the cost..._  
  
** Claire rubbed her forehead, wearily leaning forward to read her latest case summation on Trevor. The orange bars of late afternoon sunlight angled in through her windows. She tried to keep her tired eyes from shutting. After she read, once more her lip crinkled at the words, and dejectedly she started to delete sections.  
Trevor crossed out name after name, all dead ends. He angrily erased even more of his notes. His paper was covered with eraser dust, until the pencil finally broke in his hands. Frustrated, he tossed it across the room.  
  
** _Anyone perfect must be lying, anyone loved can be lost,  
What if I lost my direction, what if I lost my sense of time,  
what if I nursed this infection, maybe the worst is behind..._  
  
** Claire leaned back in her chair and looked out her office window. The sun was finally setting, dropping from view. She exhaled. That was enough for today. Turning her computer off, she gathered her things and went home.  
Looking down, Trevor was passed out on a kaleidoscope of empty pizza boxes and soda cans, his notes a jumbled mess around him on the kitchen table. Allison appeared for a moment, gently taking back her phone book and walking away. Trevor continued to snore soundly, the light of the sunset filling his apartment. The room seemed to slowly spin, dimming as he slept.  
  
** _Feels just like I'm falling for the first time..._  
  
** Slowly the music faded, and everything went black.  
  
A soft bell chimed.  
It was already the lunch rush when Allison heard the front door open. She looked up from her place behind the bar and smiled at Trevor as he came into Taggerty's.  
"Hey, Trevor.."  
Trevor walked through the early lunch crowd and moved over to her. He was carrying a stack of research notes in his arms. With a grunt he dropped them down on a clear space at the crowded bar, standing across from Allison. Champ was working behind the bar too. He came up to the two of them as he sipped from a bottled water in his hand. Curious, he looked down at all the notebooks as Trevor spread them out on the bar.  
Music still blared in the busy room. Bright sunlight filled the windows behind him. Trevor looked around at the hectic crowd and turned to Champ.  
"Little busy today, Champoo..."  
"Yeah. You'd be surprised how business types need a little mid day alcohol laced pick me up with their food..."  
Allison leaned closer to Trevor, angling her curvy body forward over the countertop. Most definitely noticing, Champ tried not to stare down at all the enticing lines she was making. Her face was next to Trevor's, and Allison smiled, looking at him.  
"Trevor, I meant to ask you something. I think I left my bra on your bed and I couldn't find it today. Have you seen it?"  
Trevor seemed uncomfortable, aware Champ was listening nearby, even though he knew that for Allison that was a purely innocent question. "Umm... No. Haven't seen it, Allison. Sorry."  
Leaning back, her brow furrowed, thinking. "Damn. Wonder where I put it? It was my favorite one.... Really held my girls just right..."  
Without a second thought she walked away, not noticing the daze she left the two men in as they pictured that in their heads.  
Trevor looked over at Champ. "It's not what you think..."  
"I know..." Champ agreed.   
"How do you know that?"  
Champ gave him a look. "Because you're ambulatory."  
Trevor nodded, commiserating. "You were Allison's roommate for awhile, right?"  
"Yeah. Back in college..."  
Trevor blinked, thinking. "Tell me... How'd you deal with the whole nudity thing..."  
Champ didn't understand. "The what?"  
Trevor looked at him, as if it were obvious. "You know... Allison. Walking around the apartment naked all the time."  
Champ coughed, surprised. "She what?"  
Trevor looked confused. "You know... Naked.... Does that with all her roommates..."  
Champ smiled at the sincerity in Trevor's question. "Hate to tell you Trevor, but she never did that with me. Or any of her other roommates. Far as I know she's never done that...."  
"Oh..." Trevor cleared his throat, flashing an embarrassed smile when he realized that Champ didn't know what he was talking about. "Oh, then... you know... just thought I'd ask... just in case.... You know, if she ever decided to start, or... or something...."  
Champ smiled at what was going on, amused. "Right. Just in case..."  
Trevor coughed nervously, changing the subject. "Ok... I've been doing some research on that vast wasteland Claire calls a love life..."  
He spread out his notes a little more, displaying them. The room was still noisy all around. Champ stepped closer, looking down.  
"What's this for?" he asked.  
Trevor gazed thoughtfully at all he had done. "Just a love god being a Snoop, that all. I've been looking into Claire's old boyfriends, talking to her relatives, listening to rumors and lies, anything I can find to help me track down this guy she's pining for. And this is my romantic analysis... I'm trying to get inside Claire here..." He blinked at what he had just said. "Which isn't nearly as much fun as it sounds..."  
"Old boyfriends? What for?"  
"This is why Claire's been so bummed lately. The answer's right here somewhere. I just got to find it. Claire's love sick, and they call me Dr. Love. So I've been looking for all of Claire's old bedmates. You know. Could have been's, should have been's, never been's... that sort of thing..."  
Champ blinked as he looked down at all the effort Trevor had made. "You're doing all this to hook Claire up... with somebody else?"  
Trevor shook his head. "Not hook, rehook. Claire's already got the guy. I just gotta find him again. Reel him back in for her. One of my beads has gone bad here, and I need to fix it. And on the off chance it's not a match I set up, I can get credit for picking up the spare, so I get a new bead either way. Her heart is already set on someone. It's my job to put the rest of her there too.."  
Champ chuckled to himself, before looking at him. "Maybe you're looking in the wrong place..."  
"Maybe... But I'm narrowing it down. Here's a list of some of our good doctor's most recent headboard bumpers. There was this one pilot guy she was hot and heavy with. Claire almost made me proud for a second, the stories I've heard about those two together. But he's dead. So I REALLY hope it's not him, because that could be problematic. Then there's this other guy, Alex De-- something or other. Won a pulitzer. Sort of gorgeous, smart. Hoity toity writer guy. Really up Claire's alley. _Reeaally_ don't like him for some reason. Add to that, he's in New York and I am on a bartender's budget here, so... NEXT!!! Then there's this guy here, Claire's strong hands carpenter, Frank. But he's gone, couldn't find a trace of him at all. Must have left town. And there's our local psycho psychologist, Richard Dehnt. He seems like a colon full of laughs... Puts the SS in asshole. I actually remember him a little, he treated me for awhile I think. Let me just say, thank the string sisters that fate has Claire's treating me now. At least she's subtle. From what little I remember of Dehnt boy here, he never met a bludgeon he didn't like..."  
Champ shook his head. "Trevor, you're heart may be in the right place, but I don't think Claire would be to thrilled with you poking around in her-"  
"Hey, it's for her own good, man. I'm going to help Claire whether she likes it or not."  
The bell on the door rang, and Champ looked over Trevor's shoulder when it opened. His expression faded, backing away. "Then may I suggest you try Duck and Cover next, Trevor?"  
"What?"  
Suddenly a woman's voice erupted behind him. "What the hell have you been doing, Trevor!"  
Trevor turned around to see Claire standing there, glaring at him. Champ walked off as Trevor tried to calm her.  
"And people say city girls don't know how to say hello politely..." he said sarcastically.  
"Do they say city girls know how to punch a guy in the face?" Her lips were a hard, angry line. "Trevor, I've got a bone to pick with you."  
"Really? Do you take requests?"  
She stepped closer to him, her face angry as she glared at him. "Exactly why have you been calling everyone I know?"  
He ignored her. "Good to see you too, Claire. Yes... I'm fine. Thanks for asking. How's your day been? You really look great today, is that a new lipstick or is just-"  
"Just answer the question Trevor!"  
He smiled. "Still the conversationalist... Another example of that winning therapeutic style that brings patients back again and again for years of unending relationship failure..."  
She was livid. "Trevor, you've been calling all my friends from school. You've been calling my sisters. My book editor. My publisher! Oh and by the way. They're thrilled with the apparent sex book they somehow think I'm currently working on..."  
Trevor smiled, caught. He scratched his head sheepishly. "Yeah about that... I told them you'd be posing for the illustrations yourself. Six figure deals were being bandied about towards the end there ..."  
"Apparently SOMEONE forgot to take all those pretty little pills..." she said scornfully. "I wonder how much confidence my publisher would have had during your little 'negotiation' if they knew it was coming from a man who's highest accomplishment is turning every Rorschach test he's seen into a peep show..."  
Trevor blinked. "Look who woke up on the wrong side of bitchy this morning... Admit it, Claire. The chick in those ink blots was hot and you know it--"  
"Trevor it's getting harder day by day to remember why I'm supposed to WANT to help you..."  
His voice was sincere, honest. "But you can help me Claire..."  
She looked at him skeptically. "Right. With what?"  
"I think I've developed a slight case of athanasia..."  
"Ha ha.." She answered dryly. "Nothing like an outpatient's rantings to really put a girl's day in perspective..." Claire exhaled tiredly, moving past him and going to the bar counter for what she had came for. "Lunch order for Claire Allen?" she asked an employee who went off to get it.  
Trevor was still thinking about her last insult as he walked up beside her, as if trying to figure it out. "Wait, 'outpatient rantings'... but when you say it, you make mental illness sound like a BAD thing..."  
"Trevor, can't you just tell me this whole Cupid thing is some embarrassing phase you'll eventually mature out of? Like say... I don't know. Puberty?"  
He spread his arms. "Does this look like a boy body to you? One hundred per cent God Baby! Although I do have it on good authority that I actually have the softest little-"  
"You know what people say, Trevor. We never really get over our childhood..."  
"Tell me about it. I still have bumps on my head from flying into the roof of the Parthenon as a kid..."  
"Parthenon doesn't have a roof, Trevor."  
"Well... Doesn't _now_..." he explained.  
She glared at him in disbelief, perplexed. "What color are the skies in your world? No, I'd seriously like to know, because several fantasy worlds are looking to relocate."  
"Claire, I called everyone I could find to help you. I'm offering you my expertise here..."  
She wasn't impressed. "Yeah, but it's the kind that observant people usually just step over."  
"And what do you have to show, Claire? The closest relationship your body's had lately is that vaguely arousing firmness of the proximity of your desk."  
The bar manager finally came back with Claire's lunch order, giving it to her. "Here you go, Claire."  
"Thank you Linda..."  
Having heard enough, Claire tried to leave. Trevor stopped her, stepping around. "Claire, you're a renowned relationship expert with love problems. I've got the cure! How can you expect the god of love to sit out this one? It's like my Super Bowl! I'm going to find this guy you're in love with and-"  
Her jaw hardened, staring him down. "Trevor, The one thing I'm certain of... is that you'll NEVER find him...."  
"You're wrong."  
"I'm not."  
"I will."  
"With what?"  
"Well, if you look at my preliminary work over here at the bar-"  
Trevor took her shoulders and started guiding her that way. Claire didn't know how to argue anymore, her strength drained by his stubbornness. In a daze, wondering when the nightmare would end, she muttered to herself. "Photography... I could have decided to take pictures... Photograph people, do my thing... Nobody talks... I'm not constantly being dunked into delusional schemes... And if there's a problem, I get to shoot things..." she said wearily to herself.  
Trevor wasn't listening to her. "Ok. See. if you follow the overall diagram, you'll see some of the people I've already crossed out around the thong section of the diagram here. There was this one guy over here, but he was sort of creepy. Didn't seem to like my little naked sketch of you at all. You know, come to think of it, maybe he was gay? He did seem to touch my arm a lot, and-"  
Claire was still babbling to herself. "Flat.... Two dimensional... Quiet.... Sane..."  
Trevor looked at her. "This would all be tons easier if you just told me who he is. Not that I mind making all those phone calls, because as a fetishist once told me, there's real value in footwork-"  
The mention of phone calls broke into Claire's consciousness and she turned to face him, her voice louder. "And how did you manage to steal my rolodex, Trevor?"  
He smiled. "You'd be surprised what I can fit down my pants.... Wait, that doesn't sound as good as I thought..."  
"Actually it makes sense. Always knew there was space down there. Trevor, I'm leaving..."  
He blocked her again. "Claire you can't stop love when it gets a head of steam-"  
She looked at his scull. "Is THAT what's making it bigger. I thought it was your ego was swallowing your head. And your mind, your reasoning, your sanity, so on... Trevor, I don't need your help."  
"Yes you do! I've stared into that deep dark abyss of your sex life and the microscope started digging into my eye! You need to fall in love again Claire! There's got to be more to your love life than setting your beeper on vibrate and calling yourself all the time!"  
She fell into a daze again, looking away. "It never ends. Over and over again. What did I do to deserve this..." She looked at him. "Do you have something against me Trevor?"   
"No, and my body hates me for it."  
"Then why? Why why why why! Is it because you LIKE making a fool out of me?"  
He thought about it, suddenly smiling. "Ahh. My happy place..."  
Claire stared blankly ahead again. "It's like I'm being punished..."  
"I prefer to call it an overzealous physical proficiency, but with you I'll be gentle, I promise..." He grazed his finger up her arm but she batted it away, growing angrier.  
Claire stepped quickly around him and started to leave again. Trevor walked beside her, trying to get her to go back. "Aren't you even going to look at my research? Try to spot all of your favorite psychosis's. Come on, it'll be fun..."  
"Stop digging into my love life, Trevor..." she warned.  
"More like sweeping into. There just wasn't very much depth there. And most of it was dirt anyway. If you didn't want to see my research, why did you come in here?"  
She gave him a long incredulous glare, finally holding up her lunch bag in his face. "Noon? Eating? Any of this sinking through? I just came to pick up my lunch..." She started to leave again.  
"The may I suggest the football player in the corner. Have you seen the shoe size on Mister muscles over there?"  
Her shoulders stiffened, coming to a stop. Slowly she turned around, trying to stay calm. "I'm only going to say this once, Trevor. Stop calling my friends. Stop harassing my colleges. Stop stalking everybody I know or have ever met and acting like a lunatic. Stop trying to 'get me some', ok? Why are you doing this?"  
"To, to prove I'm NOT insane?" He offered weakly.  
"Oh..." She blinked. "Rousing start... If that's all it is, let's clear that up right now, shall we?"  
She searched quickly through her purse, finding a notepad and scribbling something on it, before she tore a sheet off. She slapped the post-it note onto Trevor's chest. "There Trevor. It says 'NOT CRAZY'. Happy now? Wear that around for awhile. Go ahead. Maybe people will even start to believe it. Until you start talking at least..."  
"Hey, I'm offering you my skills in the science of the heart."  
"Science? More like Frankenstein's monster..."  
"Hey... he just wanted to be loved."  
"Trevor, how can someone who claims to be omnipotent be so stupid when it comes to what I actually want?"  
"It's a gift... You need this, Claire. Maybe I need this too. So I can show you who I really am. Why are you so scared"  
She turned. "What?"  
"You're scared. I'm treading into your private, personal little relationship expert territory and you're scared. Why? Afraid I'll be better at it than you?"  
Her expression fumed. "Better relationship expert? No...Making up pretty little balloon animals in your mind? Well, you may have me on that one...'  
"Until I find your balloon man. You'll see, Claire..."  
She walked past him. "You are so far gone, Trevor... And I am so really leaving."  
Staying where he was, he called out after her as she walked away. "Hey, Amarie omnia vincent!"  
She glared back. "Are you still talking. Hmm. Now I know why that call it the windy city..."  
He tried to shake that off, motioning amicably towards her. "Sure... You say that now... but you'll see. Someday. You'll think just like I do..."  
Slowly, Claire turned around, stunned. "Wow... I think my skin just tried to leave my body..."  
Trevor watched her leave, seeing her exit through the front door. His smile fell from her insults and her lack of enthusiasm for what he was trying to do for her. Trevor walked over to Champ at the bar, who had watched everything with an amused glint in his eye.  
Trevor still looked back the way Claire had gone, his face serious, her insults still in his ears. Thinking about her he finally exhaled, speaking softly to himself.  
"Could someone tell me why I'm in love with her..?"  
Champ looked over at Trevor's soft admission, surprised. He chuckled at what Trevor had said, turning away.  
"Took you long enough..."  
Trevor didn't hear him, still watching the way Claire had gone.  
  
Claire walked back to her office down the sidewalk. The sky above had grown overcast and gray. She was carrying her lunch and trying to forget about what Trevor had said. What he had been on to. She knew what he was trying to do and what he was trying to find out. She was upset, upset that Trevor was meddling instead of just letting her mope and be gloomy in peace. He was poking his nose into business she desperately didn't want him knowing about. How did he get his mind so set on this? And what could she do to change that... As her mind worked, no answer came to her. Still walking, she tried to push her anger down, hoping to clear her head.  
Suddenly she heard the sound of someone coming up fast behind her. When she turned to look, Trevor had already fallen into step beside her, keeping pace.  
He looked over at her as she pretended to ignore him. "Want to talk about it?" he asked.  
Her voice was low and dangerous. "Trevor you really don't want to talk with me right now..."  
"Why are you so upset? What really happened back there?"  
She shook her head. "Only the painfully usual, Trevor..... Me just wanting a happy, normal life, and you just wanting to bully in like you always do with another insane scheme. Until I'm left... until I'm left cleaning up the mess you leave behind..." Her voice was almost sad.  
His expression thoughtful, he looked at her as they walked side by side. "Possibly... Or maybe it's because I'm on to something. You're acting pretty defensive, Claire."  
"The hell if I'm acting defensive!!!"  
"All I'm doing is a little digging to find this guy, and you keep trying to steer me away. Who is he? Why does he have you worked up so much?"  
She glared at him. "Oh I don't know... Maybe it's because it's absolutely none of your business?"  
Cars whisked by them on the street as they walked down the sidewalk, bathed in a gray diffuse light from clouds rolling in under an overcast sky. The air was cool and Trevor shivered, or perhaps it was from the shoulder Claire was giving him.  
"Tell me about him, Claire..."  
"Trevor, can we just agree on the fact that we're not having this conversation?"  
He looked straight ahead as they walked. "You might as well tell me, Claire. You know I'll find him eventually...."  
Claire stopped and faced him. "You'll never find him, Trevor. Here's a news flash. Not everything in life ties itself up in a pretty little happy ending ribbon. In fact, most things in life don't. Life's not some fantasy play ground for your delusional validation. Or a misguided quest to slid over another worthless bead..."  
His eyes narrowed. "You think I'm doing this for some bead? I'm doing this for you, Claire! I'm not even sure I want to go home any more. Not after they've left me alone here and-"  
She broke in angrily. "What do you know about being left behind!"  
Confused, he looked at her. "I'm doing this because I care about you. I want you to be happy..."  
"If that were true, you would have stopped this a long time ago, Trevor. Do I look happy to you?"  
He swallowed. "You look heartbroken. But whatever problems you and this guy are facing Claire, I'm sure I can help work around them until-"  
She breathed out in exasperation. "You just don't get it, do you? You want to know about him? You really want to know? I'll tell you this... This man, this person that your looking for. He's someone I _CAN'T_ be in love with. Someone I can't allow myself to love... Not now. Not ever. A man who it's impossible for me to love. For his sake, and for my own. Let me see you work around that, Trevor..."  
"You can't fine control love that way, Claire! No one can. Not even me. Why do you think the gods sent me down here... You can't just turn off what you feel. What I really think is going on here is that you really don't want me to succeed. Because you think I'm crazy and you prefer to think of me that way. Because that puts you in the position of power where you don't have to accept that maybe I'm right. That maybe for once this delusional god can help you..."  
"Trevor, stop it, ok?" Claire started walking away.  
"Tell me about him, Claire." He kept pace with her.  
"Trevor, I'm not going to tell you any-"  
"Is he tall? Short? What's his name?"  
"Trevor-"  
He kept pestering her. "What does he look like? What does he do?"  
"Trevor, I'm-"  
"You worked with him, didn't you?"  
Claire seemed shaken, surprised at that insight from him, as she still walked. "Trevor, just listen to me-"  
"I'm going to find him, Claire. Today, tomorrow. Week after-"  
"Trevor, could you just for once-"  
"I promise. I'm not stopping. Not until I know. Where does he live, Claire? What makes him different, what makes him unique? What does he have that I don't?" Trevor blinked, angry for a moment that he had let that slip out.  
Claire sighed, her eyes moist as Trevor continued his barrage, unable to answer, unable to fight back anymore.  
he pressed on. "Why does he have such a hold over-"  
Claire whirled around to face him, in tears, her voice loud and resentful. "He's you! He's you, Trevor!"  
Trevor was speechless.  
There was a long silence on the sidewalk. They stood facing each other, Trevor's face full of shock.  
Claire's eyes glittered. "The man you're looking for? The man I can't love? The man I have no future with? It's you, Trevor. he's what's hurting my heart. And you can't 'fix' that..."  
She gave him one last pained look, and without another word she walked away, lowering her head as she wiped her eyes. Trevor was still paralyzed, standing there speechless at what she had just said.  
Suddenly there was an approaching hiss, and a heavy rain started to fall, pouring thickly out of the gray sky. Before Trevor was aware of it, he was soaked completely, drenched in the deluge of rain water. People on the sidewalk all around him dashed for cover as he stood there, looking for drier places. But he stayed where he was, not moving. Everything seemed still and increasingly distant around him, flooded.  
He looked the way Claire had gone, water dripping down his face and off his chin. She was still in sight, walking away, but she wasn't making any attempt to get out of the rain either. Trevor blinked at the water in his eyes. Suddenly it was all so clear. It was like a revelation at last.  
"I remember now... I remember it all..."  
Overhead, thunder rumbled. Rivulets of water flowed to the curb under the pelting barrage of more rain falling. Trevor's clothes were soaked, as he stood there, alone in the downpour.  
  


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	5. finding pg 05

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Claire blinked when she saw the note on her desk.  
She was in her office at work, alone, the blue sky outside was bright through her windows. Around her the room was silent as she stood behind her desk. She had only stepped out of her office for a moment, and she remembered locking the door behind her. The keys were still in her hand from unlocking the door when she had come in. Now she found this, right there in the middle of her desk. It wasn't even a note, but instead a piece of paper, ingeniously folded into some sort of origami shape she had never seen before. It was folded into one continuous bow and arrow.  
Curious, she slowly reached out and picked it up, gently turning it in her fingers. Claire tried not to smile, knowing instantly who it was from. She hadn't spoken to Trevor in days, not since she had broken down and finally told him, admitted that she loved him. Admitted that she could never let herself be with him.  
Claire looked down in wonder at the small paper bow in her hands, and finally she did smile. Her fingers grazed tenderly over it's contours, touched by what Trevor had done. She looked again behind her at what had been her locked office door only a few moments ago. How did he get in? She hadn't been gone for more than a minute. How did he even know she was there? Or not there, as it were?  
She looked back at the origami sculpture. It shouldn't surprise her. Because she already knew that Trevor was constantly surprising her. Why should now be any different.  
The mid day sky was still a beautiful blue in the window behind her, warm and bright. It was Saturday. Claire looked out of her office door to Jaclyn's empty reception desk. Jaclyn wasn't there, not working today. Claire had only come in to do some extra work, and to get her mind off things.  
"How does Trevor always seem to know where to find me..." she whispered softly to herself.  
Deciding not to question it, she looked at the small bow and arrow fondly, thinking of Trevor. Then she noticed that one of the corners of the folded paper intentionally made a tab with a small arrow drawn on it, instructing her to pull. Gently, Claire did, and to her surprise the whole construction unfolded easily into a single sheet of intricately folded paper. She had never seen any origami that could do that before. The sheet had a few words of writing on it. Trevor's writing.  
  
_** Follow me, Claire. You'll love this...**_  
  
Beneath those words was a simple diagram, more arrows leading out of her office and to another spot in the building she was in.  
Claire blinked, wondering what it all meant. She though about it for a moment, holding onto the paper, a little uncertain as she looked over at her open door, considering. Finally she moved, resolved as she decided to follow the map.  
Stepping out of her office again, Claire turned and locked the door behind her, her keys softly clattering together in the quiet air. Holding the paper, Claire walked away down the hallway, following the directions, wondering what she was getting herself into.  
As she walked through the halls she passed various locked therapist offices, most of them unused on the weekend. The empty spaces echoed with the sound of her steps on the tile flooring. Except for a few offices here and there, she was virtually alone in the building.  
Anticipation grew in her over the minutes, and she looked up. The map led to an empty intersection up ahead, slowly moving towards her. Claire stopped in the middle of it and turned, confused. There was no one there, even though the arrow in the diagram definitely ended here. Finally she exhaled, thinking, wondering what to do next.  
Then she saw it. Another little paper sculpture, this time folded into an origami heart. Smiling again, she walked over and carefully lifted it off the wall railing where it had been left. The paper heart was beautiful, as intricate and expertly folded as the bow and arrow had been.  
Looking, she saw the same small tab. Pulling on it too, the heart unfolded easily into a single sheet of paper. There were no words on this one, only another map Trevor had drawn with a diagram and arrows, pointing out of the building and to a distant spot in the city.  
Amazed, she lifted her eyes and looked all around, searching. There was no one in sight. No one was even remotely near her in any direction. Claire started to think. She herself had passed through this intersection not more than a minute ago on her way back to her office. She knew there hadn't been any paper heart sitting there on the railing when she had walked by. And she knew she hadn't seen any sign of Trevor in the building at all. How had he done this?  
Claire turned her attention to the first sheet, bending it effortlessly until it folded back into a bow and arrow. She put it tenderly away in her pocket, wanting to keep it. Holding the remaining sheet open and taking a breath, she followed the directions on the second map, walking away and out of the building.  
Sometime later, Claire was out on a busy sidewalk when she looked up again, having come to the end of the last arrow. A bustling downtown intersection filled with traffic was there before her, cars honking and speeding by everywhere in the bright sunlight. It was busy, even for a Saturday. Skyscrapers towered high into the blue sky all around her. Claire stood there on the corner, at a loss. And then she spotted something again.  
It was out in the middle of traffic, wedged onto the metal pole of a small turning light set in the raised cement medium between traffic lanes. Claire could barely see it there, a small, folded paper shape, ignored as cars sped past it in either direction.  
The wind from the passing cars gently blew through Claire's hair as she looked at it, her face bathed in sunshine as she smiled. The street was loud, noisy with traffic. Claire moved over and pushed the button on the traffic post beside her, waiting to cross.  
The traffic slowed, and then came to a stop. A green light across the street blinked on, the outline of a person walking, allowing her to go forward. Claire stepped eagerly over to the small cement island, stopping there. She picked up the small paper sculpture Trevor had left, looking at it as the signal light changed again, and the waiting traffic started to move. Cars started whizzing by in front and behind her as she stood there, oblivious to them.  
Claire held the paper object up to the sunlight. It was the most intricate figure of them all, an exquisitely folded origami cherub, easily recognizable, seemingly delicate and fragile, yet solid and remarkably well constructed. Trevor's workmanship was amazing. She smiled, engrossed by it, beyond words, lips parted as she gaped. When did he learn how to make origami sculptures? She found the same small tab, like on all the others, and when she pulled it, it unfolded easily.  
The opened paper trembled as cars whizzed by on either side of Claire, her hair swaying gently in the wind too. She looked down. It was another map, leading several blocks away. Claire smiled, starting to enjoy the chase. Like before, she refolded the heart origami map back to it's original sculpture. Gently she put the paper heart into her pocket beside the bow and arrow, still surprised at how easily it returned to its original shape, as if it had always been that way.  
With the third map now unfolded before her to follow, Claire waited for the traffic to lessen before she moved quickly into the traffic lanes, stepping off the small cement island. She no longer bothered to ask herself how Trevor had so quickly planted these notes for her to find at such varied distances. It didn't bother her today. Somehow she knew she'd find him.  
Claire followed the directions, moving down the sidewalk, her figure growing more and more distant. She was just another pedestrian under the towering skyscrapers, a small figure in a big city.  
  
Later Claire walked slowly forward, looking at something ahead as she paused near the end of her directions again. She could see it now, see where the arrows ended. It was a street corner, at the edge of the park. The city park beyond filled several blocks in the middle of downtown, a large expanse of trees, sidewalks, and green grass, nestled in the middle of Chicago's skyscrapers towering all around. She had been there before, remembering the time she had blown soap bubbles. With a smile, she crossed the street and moved to the corner, wondering again how Trevor had planned all this, still curious after all.  
When she got to the sidewalk she paused, looking all around, expecting to find another origami clue somewhere. But there was nothing. her brow furrowing, she looked everywhere, under a line of high shrubs that blocked her view of the park, over on top of a small bench where passengers usually waited for the bus, but she found nothing. Perplexed, Claire stopped to think, wondering what to do next. This couldn't be all of it. There had to be more. But no matter where she looked, she found no further sign from Trevor.  
Then she noticed that there were people passing her, heading into the park. She blinked, looking over at them. They were talking and laughing, walking into the hidden grassy area beyond the line of shrubs and into the park. And they were not alone. Now that she noticed them, Claire saw that there were several groups entering in small clusters, as if gathering. Slowly she walked around the row of hedges and followed them in.  
Claire was stepping on the grass, moving forward. There was no denying it now, people were gathering for something. There seemed to be some sort of event going on up ahead, hidden from view behind another row of hedges. She could hear the sounds of lots of people on the far side, talking, waiting. There was the hum of an electric bass guitar warming up. As she approached, the hedge drew closer to her. Suddenly she stopped when she saw a pink balloon float inadvertently up from beyond the shrubs and into the crystal blue sky, bobbing, shifting as it danced on the breeze, flying free...  
People continued past the hedge in front of her. Claire followed them, the sound of the waiting crowd growing louder. She moved tentatively around the edge of the bushes until the scene came into view before her, and she gasped.  
A crowd was gathered there, in front of an elevated performance stage erected in the park. It was a sizable group, easily several hundred people. Streamers and balloons decorated the scene everywhere. The perimeter around the stage was lined with food booths and games, including several varieties of kissing booths. Person high canvas walls in all sorts of bright colors encircled everything, their fabric glowing in the sunlight.  
Above the stage was a lattice of stage lights. Arranged below them were banks of amplifiers, before which a rock band was warming up, consisting of a dozen or so musicians with various instruments. Behind the stage, two huge arches made of hundreds of smaller balloons tied together swayed gently in the breeze. There was the smell of food in the air and a generally festive mood over the hum of the audience. It was an elaborate event being held, and with anticipation the crowd waited, facing the stage.  
Claire looked on in wonder, clueless as to what was going on. As she moved into the waiting throng, people standing all around her, her stunned eyes looked up at the huge banner draped clearly over the stage. In proud, bold letters that could be seen all across the park, it stated it simply.  
  


**OLD TYME  
CUPID REVIVAL FESTIVAL**

  
Before Claire even gave herself a chance to take that in, the band beneath the banner began to play suddenly, filling the air with music. As they played a loud, held chord, the drummer rolled his suspended cymbals to heighten the anticipation in the crowd. The crowd began to cheer slightly when the music started. Above the stage, lights flashed rapidly down, colorful and frenetic.  
Behind Claire, even more people hurried past her to join the waiting audience, having heard the music starting already. Claire watched it all, stunned. The band still held the loud chord, as a man walked across the stage towards the empty microphone stand waiting up front.  
Cheers rose from the crowd when they saw him. Claire gaped even more. It was Trevor, dressed simply enough in a t shirt and jeans, the way he always dressed. With a smile on his face he stepped past the waiting microphone stand and closer to the edge of the elevated stage. Appreciating the cheers he was getting, he spread his arms, standing above the crowd. Trevor bowed with a playful flourish as the crowd cheered louder. When he straightened again he laughed and shook his shoulders at them, goading them on. The crowd clapped in anticipation, waiting.  
Trevor stepped back to the microphone, pulling it off the stand. There was a wail of feedback as he lifted it to his lips. Behind him, the band still played the held chord, until it softened slightly into something more reverent and church like. Trevor looked to the sky with a mock expression of piousness. Then as he looked out over the crowd again, his amplified voice rang clearly out over them as he hammed it up, performing like an over the top evangelist.  
"Dearly beloved... We are gathered here today to get through this thing called life..."  
The crowd yelled it's approval, applauding louder. Trevor was in his element, strutting as he spoke, part elvis, part preacher as he cradled the microphone in his hands. His eyes twinkled above his infectious smile as he continued.  
"Electric word, life, it means forever and that's a mighty long time, but I'm here to tell you... There's something else... The afterworld..."  
The keyboard player glissandoed up the keys on cue, as Trevor paused for dramatic effect. No one watching would have been at all surprised if he had paused to spray some water into his eyes for pretended emotion.  
From where she stood, Claire blinked, recognizing the song. The musical chord still held, waiting, and the crowd applauded even more.  
Trevor drank in all the attention, in the middle of his own unique type of sermon. His face beamed in the sunlight, stage lights flashing above him as he smiled and looked to the blue sky, his words echoing across the park. "A world of never-ending happiness. You can always see the sun. Day... Or night."  
Claire walked forward slowly, approaching the stage, still stunned as Trevor's voice continued.  
"So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills, you know the one... Dr. Everything'll Be Alright." With a grin Trevor pointed his finger right at Claire, his eyes glinting with amusement as behind him the drummer started a faster beat and the music began to quicken. The crowd started to move, swaying, clapping. "Instead of asking her how much of your time is left... ask her how much of your mind, baby."  
Some of the crowd started swaying side to side, the music loud over them. Others had their arms in the air. Claire watched as Trevor split his legs apart, dropping to the stage floor and instantly back up in a showy move, causing more cheers. He pulled the microphone in close, still emoting greatly.  
"Cause in this life, things are much harder than the afterworld." He looked out at the eager gyrating throng. "In this life... you're on your own..."  
Slowly Claire looked over at everyone around her. They were all starting to dance now, really enjoying this. As hard as she tried not to, she couldn't help but smile a little. Trevor Hale, delusional bartender, hospital outpatient, olympian god wannabe, had the crowd in the palm of his hand.  
And Trevor knew it, pausing on stage. "And if the elevator tries to bring you down.. Go crazy. Punch the highest floor!"  
Trevor spun in place. The crowd roared. Lights flashed on cue. Balloons were released into the sky. The song began in earnest as the full band joined in, loud and raucous. Trevor casually tossed the microphone to the cover band's lead singer, his hosting work at imploring the crowd done. The singer caught the microphone and started to sing the lyrics.  
All around Claire, people were dancing. More colored balloons floated in the blue sky. The music was loud in her ears, drowning out nearly everything throughout the park as Claire stood in the middle of a mass of dancing revelers. And she started to recognize faces there. Champ and Jaclyn were in the crowd, dancing energetically in each other's arms, smiling at each other and having a great time, not even aware of anyone else. Allison was there too, dancing happily with another employee from Taggerty's. Most of the members of her singles group were there, Lawrence, Mike, Tina, Nick. Trevor did have a lot of friends, after all.  
Trevor dropped off the edge of the stage and onto the grass with a big smile on his face. He looked at the huge celebration party around him, pleased now that it had really gotten started. Still smiling he walked through the crowd towards where he had spotted Claire. But he couldn't stop himself, dancing with a few attractive women along the way, spinning them around for a few seconds. There was a flash of white light, and he noticed a photographer he didn't know, taking pictures from the party's edge, a reporter probably. Another man held a video news camera on his shoulder, taping footage from the perimeter. Trevor didn't mind. He wanted people to know he was fully back, after all.   
Around him everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, dancing to the loud music booming out into the park. Moving as best as he could across the crowded grass, Trevor kept looking for Claire, walking forward. He thought he saw her for a moment between dancers, motionless as she watched him, her eyes sad. But then people passed between them, and he lost sight of her. He finally squeezed his way to where he had spotted her, but when he got there there was no sign of her. He turned in place, searching quickly, but there was nothing. Where was she? He saw only a mass of happy, dancing people. Claire was gone.  
Trevor face dropped, standing there motionless and disappointed, the only stationary person in a sea of dancing bodies. Suddenly he felt sadder, having wanted to see her. But then his thoughts turned back to the party around him, the party he had thrown for himself. He slowly moved off, disappearing into the boisterous crowd.  
  
It was later in the day, and the sky was still sunny, bright and warm as the music from the stage played slower now, a different song, gentle and relaxing over the crowd. The air was soft with laughter, people talking, as the aroma of food wafted through the party. Trevor walked slowly through the crowd on the grass, trying to enjoy his 'revival' festival, and stepping towards one of the colorful canvas wall parturitions which blocked the other side from view. As he moved along it's length, he suddenly felt a little sad, missing Claire. He hadn't found her anywhere in the crowd. Maybe she had left after all. But looking up, he recognized something, the shadowed outline of a woman, standing motionless on the other side of the parturition up ahead.  
He walked quietly up to that part of the canvas, it's color glowing brightly with sunlight on it's far side, to where her outline was. She said nothing, knowing Trevor was there. He looked at her, sensing the quiet moment between them, still separated by the parturition. But at least she was still there. She hadn't left.  
He exhaled. "So Claire... How do you like my little identity restoration party..."  
He watched her shadow lower her head, looking down. Then she started walking slowly forward. He kept pace with her on his side, the bright canvas sliding slowly past between them.  
"Little?" Her voice was soft as she spoke to him. "Elaborate... foolish... over the top... maybe. But not little. A blatant scream for attention? Definitely. In other words, totally appropriate for you, Trevor..."  
Trevor smiled, still walking with her. Her voice warmed him more than the sunlight, even if he couldn't see her face. They were alone, just the two of them. Their steps were slow, at ease, both silent for a moment as if afraid to speak, but wanting to be close to each other, even if the canvas separated them while they walked. Trevor looked over at her shadow.  
"Claire... Maybe we should talk about--... You know, about what you told me..."  
She kept walking, her shadow not looking at him as the canvas slid slowly past. There was a reluctance in her voice. "There's nothing to say, Trevor..."  
He watched her. "There's tons to say. Stuff we've never said. Not enough, anyway. Stuff we need to say. Claire... you know I feel the same way about--"  
"Don't--... Don't say it, Trevor." She sighed, still walking. "I know... I know you love me. I just kinda hoped you wouldn't remember... I shouldn't have said anything."  
"Why? Why shouldn't I remember? I love you Claire.... Do you know how great that is? That never happened to me before I met you. I realize now that it happened that very day. Imagine, the god of love. Year after year of setting up couples... Never knew what it felt like, not really. But now.. I do."  
Her voice was soulful, tired. "Love's not enough, Trevor..."  
He shook his head. "Why do people always say that? It is enough. It's always enough. All it takes is two people in love, who finally realize that. Instead of forgetting what's really important... I would want to remember, to remember feeling like that. And now... I do."  
Her shadow looked down again. "Even when it hurts to remember?"  
Trevor spoke with conviction. "I'd rather remember something bad than forget something good. Claire, when I--... when I see you, even when all I see is your shadow, it's like everything else is the shadow and you're--... glowing. You are so beautiful. Your soul is this soft light in a hard world. I--... I see you and my heart... _aches_. Way deep down..."  
He could hear the amusement in her voice, even as the canvas passing between them blocked her from view. "Maybe that's because you eat too many fatty foods. Maybe you just need a cardiologist..."  
He smiled too, sensing she didn't want to talk about it. "Maybe... And I do see the irony there."  
They were both silent again for several moments. But they kept walking together, moving forward, not wanting to leave. Trevor looked at her shadow walking there next to him. "Or maybe we should just face each other, Claire. Face how we feel..."  
The glowing canvas still separated them, moving slowly. Her voice was soft. "I don't know, Trevor. I don't know if we can..."  
Looking forward, Trevor noticed that they were walking towards the end of the parturition up ahead, the point where it stopped on the grass. "Claire... if we keep going like this, we'll have to face each other eventually. Today, next week. We'll have to talk about this, confront what we feel. Wow... Imagine that, me giving you the pop psychology tagline..."  
Trevor quickened his steps, wanting to see her, moving faster forward towards the end of the canvas. "Claire, I'm scared too. I don't know what's going to happen, where this will lead, good or bad. That's always scary. For me too. But I'm not going to hide from us anymore. I'm not going to ignore how we both feel. We need--"  
Trevor eagerly swung around the end of the canvas wall, stepping to the other side, wanting to catch a glimpse of her. But he stopped. No one was there. Claire was gone.  
Trevor looked around. She was nowhere in sight. Quickly he scanned down both sides of the canvas wall. Even her shadow was gone. She must have moved off in the other direction.   
Trevor sighed, realizing he wasn't going to get to see her, or to talk to her about it. Slowly he turned away, his mood somber as he stepped away the canvas wall glowing brightly in the sunlight, heading back to the party.  
  
The city newspaper slammed down onto the conference table.  
"Dr. Allen, would you care to explain this?"  
Her lips parted, Claire looked down at the paper, caught off guard. She was sitting alone at the table before the hospital review board which had summoned her. The members of the board watched her from the end of the room, looming over her behind their long bench, somber as judges. Which in this case, they very much were. Behind Claire's shoulders, the room was only empty floor. There was no one there to back her up.  
Claire swallowed, uncertain what to say as the room remained quiet around her. The board waited, sitting in silent judgment. Claire gingerly picked up the newspaper, taking a better look. In between all of the days news, one headline caught her eye, small yet prominent on the Chicago paper's lower right edge. There was a picture beside it, and a column of text beneath it.  
  


** LOCAL OUTPATIENT CLAIMS TO BE CUPID  
STAGES IMPROMPTU PARK FESTIVAL**

  
  
Claire swallowed again, feeling the glare of the review board members. She blinked uncomfortably at how much attention Trevor's festival had drawn, having not seen the article herself. The picture beside the article was of Trevor in the festival crowd, smiling, rejoicing before his banner.  
"Dr Allen?"  
There was a hardness in the man's voice when the leader of the review board asked.  
Claire laid the paper onto the table again, feeling very alone. The air was still with anticipation as she gathered herself, struggling for words. Very little in the way of a reasonable explanation came to her mind. "Well... Umm, Trevor's been--"  
One of the women on the review board interrupted her, absolutely no sympathy in her voice. "It's been our understanding from you, Dr. Allen, that Trevor Hale had begun to let go of his dependency on the Cupid persona. Your reports led us to believe that his condition had been steadily improving."  
Claire's expression froze, caught in the lie of her reports. For weeks she had been writing what she thought the board wanted to hear. _Anything_ they wanted to hear. All to protect Trevor. And now this. Claire stared resolutely at the woman, trying not to give anything away on her face, but sounding a little defensive. "Trevor _has_ been improving. Despite what happened in the park last Saturday. I'm not saying that incident isn't a point of concern, but after all, it was only one minor celebration that he arranged at the last minute and-"  
"Minor?" Annoyed, the woman continued, her words hard and berating as she consulted her own notes. "Twenty seven event booths. Over two hundred people in attendance. His 'minor' celebration took up well over a third of the park. All without permits, clearances, or permission of any kind of course. Add to that the electrical set up for the lighting and instruments, which was illegally tapped into the city's power grid. Later, traffic was diverted for blocks when his 'minor' celebration moved out onto surrounding surface streets so that city fire hydrants could be opened for what was labeled... "The Water Dancethon". These are all major violations, Dr. Allen. Violations a patient under your supervision has made."  
Claire's lips thinned at the rebuke. "I know... And they are, but--"  
An older man on the review board glared disapprovingly at her through his glasses, his profile outlined against the brightness of the windows to the room's side as he spoke. "This patient obviously still believes he is Cupid. Revels in it, in fact. A belief you had informed us had rescinded. Would you care to explain, Dr. Allen?"  
Claire's tone grew harder at their accusations. "The party was a relapse of the Cupid persona. I readily admit that. A slight one. But that's not to say that there has been no improve--"  
"Slight? This is far beyond slight. This 'relapse' was covered in all the morning papers. Some local news broadcasts led with this, where Trevor Hale was widely reported as an outpatient of this hospital. An out of control one, as it seems. Do you understand how this incident make's our hospital's program look?"  
Claire snapped back. "My purview is as a therapist, not hospital PR. My concern is for the treatment of the patient."  
"Or lack there of, in this case."  
Claire bit off another biting remark in reply, trying to stay calm. "As I've already acknowledged, this is a setback. But Trevor Hale still has the potential to-"  
Another man interrupted with a scornful sneer. Claire was beginning to wonder if she would ever get a chance to complete a sentence.  
The new speaker leaned forward from behind the leader of the board, coming into view outlined against the windows. His head was slightly balding, he was wearing glasses, and sporting a thin beard on his chin as he sneered down at Claire from his seat on the review board. Dr. Frechette barely managed to conceal the disdain he felt as he spoke in falsely reasonable tones. "A setback. You call this a setback. Well... you've been well versed in those during your treatment of Trevor Hale, haven't you. So please... Tell us, Dr. Allen. How do you consider this latest incident to be an example of your 'progress' with the patient."  
Claire's eyes narrowed at him, glaring at the hospital review board's latest addition. She did her best to keep her words calm, but she still felt furious that she even had to answer to him at all. "Trevor's case is a complicated issue, as any reasonably intelligent therapist would see if he took the time to look. His delusion is not one that readily avails itself to some sort of instantaneous recovery. I think the therapeutic regimen I've enacted holds the most--"  
"But we're not talking instantaneous here, are we Dr. Allen? You've had years with this patient..." Dr. Frechette's voice dripped with contempt. "Let's look over those years, shall we?"  
Claire shifted, feeling helpless to stop him.  
Dr. Frechette smugly pushed his glasses back, as he consulted Claire's therapy notes, still speaking in falsely measured tones. "In the past 12 months alone, there have been several such 'setbacks' haven't there? Mr. Hale's interactions with another outpatient, named Mary Simmons, for instance. Hmm... that ended in a fairly violent way, didn't it? Mary shot Mr. Hale with a handgun. By her own admission, because she was trying to disprove some rather reckless claims that Trevor had fed to her. After which, you resigned from Trevor's care for a time, perhaps a tacit acknowledgement of that failure. Soon after that, Trevor physically assaulted his interim therapist, Dr. Dehnt. Striking him in his office I believe. It seems your 'progress' failed to have any lasting affect in that instance as well. Add to that, the fact that when eventually transferred back to your care, Mr. Hale promptly went missing for well over three months, leaving Chicago completely, without supervision, without treatment, and in direct violation of his release order. And now, we have this new incident in the park, which has turned this hospital into a virtual laughing stock. How can you possibly defend all this, Dr. Allen?"  
"I don't defend it... It's--It's what happened and--" Looking down, Claire clamped her lips shut. Her resolve seemed to weaken under the attack from all sides. But she still argued her point, her voice had grown soft with futility. "It was just a harmless party..."  
Frechette stared coldly at her. "Violated city ordinances and the pile of complaints we've received say otherwise. But to you, I suppose that too counts as... 'progress'. Seems more like regression to me, Dr. Allen. Have you helped him in any way to recover? Helped him in any way at all... to lead a normal life?"  
Her voice was beaten, almost indiscernible, not even looking at them. "Trevor has a normal life..."  
Frechette ignored her, looking away. "Then again... perhaps your close _'relationship'_, with the patient has clouded your objectivity."  
This time Claire didn't care if her anger showed. There was a new heat, an anger in her eyes as she fixed him with a glare that could have melted steel. "Just what are you implying, Dr. Frechette?"  
He was all ice, not flickering under her glare as he stared coldly back at her. "I'm not implying, Dr. Allen. Since Trevor Hale has been in your care, this board has twice had to redress charges leveled against you, of having 'inappropriate' intimate contact with Mr. Hale. Once from a former hospital employee, and once from Dr. Dehnt himself."  
"Neither of which have ever been substantiated in any way, Dr. Frechette." she paused, glaring at him. "As you full well know..."  
"Yes..." He smiled scornfully. "Neither of which have been substantiated. Funny how it seems to keep coming up, though..."  
Claire blinked, feeling the hospital board as a whole staring at her, giving her no support.  
"Dr. Allen..." The head of the review board finally spoke up again, trying to dissipate the obvious tension in Frechette and Claire's exchange. "We've all read your case reports. You've been consistent in your claims that Trevor Hale has made progress. Yet the incident in the park seems to speak otherwise. If he had been under any other doctor, we would have removed him from their care a long time ago. What with incidents like these... assaults, a shooting, flight risks and public disruptions. But with you, we've left Trevor Hale free and on the street..."  
The man took a deep breath. "Claire...Your record here at the hospital has been exemplary. You are an impeccable therapist, Dr. Allen. With a sterling reputation--"  
"Usually this is the point where someone offers up a big 'however'..." Claire said simply.  
The head of the board paused. "However... every doctor has their failures. Patients that they just can't help. Even if she can't admit it to herself. Suffices to say, we have our concerns, Dr. Allen. Because of what you have previously led us to believe... Can you explain the discrepancy between your reports and Trevor Hale's continuing delusion?"  
Claire swallowed, silent for a moment. "I can't..."  
The head of the board leaned back when he heard that, disappointed.   
Claire spoke quickly, trying to stop what was happening. "Trevor isn't a threat to anyone. He's not some psychologically unstable patient who's a danger to society. There isn't a need for radical action here. We shouldn't abandon his current treatment because of a little embarrassment to the hospital. He's had a minor setback, that's all. Please... please, I can handle it. I just need some continued leeway--"  
"We've already given you leeway, Dr. Allen. More than any other doctor would have received..." The head of the review board exhaled, thinking to himself in frustration as Claire waited on pins and needles. After several long moments, he spoke, looking sternly at her. "Very well... We'll keep Trevor Hale under your care for now. But unless with see some radical indications of progress, we will rethink that decision. But be aware, this is the last such 'incident' that will easily pass our attention. That is all, Dr. Allen..."  
Claire's face was tight, feeling the threat in his ominous words. She tried to keep her expression neutral, hoping to hide the fear blossoming in her eyes. Without a further word from the review board, she gathered her files from the table before her and rose from her chair. Her steps echoed on the floor as she walked across the empty space at the back of the room and towards the doors. Annoyed, Frechette watched her leave, a frown on his face.  
When the door closed behind her, Dr. Frechette leaned forward again, turning to look over at the other members of the review board there seated beside him. He sounded indignant as he looked into their now equally concerned faces.  
"How long are we going to let this continue?" he asked.  
  
Jaclyn stood when she heard Claire come out of the hearing room. She had been sitting a few feet down the hall on a bench, waiting for Claire to come out. Quickly Jaclyn walked over to her, concern in her voice.  
"Claire? How did it go?"  
Looking at her silently, Claire said nothing.  
Jaclyn exhaled, silent as well, needing no further explanation.  
Claire still watched her, no words passing between them. A few moments passed. Then Claire's eyes wilted, welling up with tears, trying to hold it in. Jaclyn noticed in surprise, a second before Claire suddenly came forward and desperately took Jaclyn into her arms, needing the support. Jaclyn tried to comfort her, holding Claire gently. Trying not to cry, Claire gasped softly onto Jaclyn's shoulder.  
Jaclyn held her gently. "So I can take that as 'not well'?"  
Claire held onto Jaclyn like a lifeline, her thoughts chaotic as fear after fear flashed through her mind. She tried to compose herself a little, still looking over Jaclyn's shoulder as the light from the hallway window beside them bathed her face with a pale light, glittering in her eyes.  
"I'm losing him, Jaclyn..."  
Jaclyn didn't ask, already knowing what Claire feared would soon happen. If not now, eventually. She held Claire tighter, feeling the despair through her shoulders. She didn't know what to say, what to tell Claire that would make it any better or comfort her, nothing that could hide the truth they both knew.  
The two women held each other silently in the hallway, standing before the doors of the hearing room. The air was quiet. They were alone, two small figures in the bare hallway that stretched empty before them.  
  
Claire looked anxious when she pushed open the door into Taggerty's and stepped in. The bell rung softly above her as the door swung in. She paused, scanning the interior of the bar. It was half filled with customers, music playing from the jukebox. The large room was illuminated by the light coming through the front windows. Claire stepped further inside, letting the door close behind her, still searching.  
She needed to find Trevor. After what had just happened at the review board she had to talk to him, warn him about what consequences could be in store if he continued to flout his delusion. Tell him what treatment options the board might consider next if she didn't stop him, didn't reign him back under control. Quickly she looked around, stepping closer to the bar. Then she spotted him.  
Trevor was laughing, seated at a table across from an older man, 'working'. The two were talking softly between themselves, and Claire only had to guess to know about what. Trevor never ever let up on his delusion, did he? With a sigh she stepped forward, her expression falling at the sight.  
Trevor laughed again, not seeming to notice her as Claire approached from behind and stopped, waiting behind his table. He reached out and pressed his palm onto the shoulder of the man he was talking to. "See... It's not so complicated. Take my advice. She'll go for it, I promise..."  
The man smiled, feeling better. "Thank's, Trevor."  
"Hey, no problem. Always here to help..."  
The man stood up from his chair, a new smile of hope on his face.  
Trevor looked up at him proudly, still seated. "Go get her, tiger."  
The man crossed his fingers and walked away, leaving the table and stepping past Claire. Trevor stayed where he was, not turning around, a contented smile on his face.  
Curious, Claire watched the other man leave, wondering what had just happened. Then she turned back to Trevor. He still had his back to her, apparently not noticing she was there. Claire's lips opened, about to speak.  
"Hello, Claire." Trevor smiled, before he finally turned around to look at her, not surprised she was there in the least.  
Claire blinked. "How did you know it was me?"  
He shrugged. "I'm always aware of where you are. Remember?"  
Claire immediately stepped torwards him, taking the seat the departing man had vacated. "Trevor, we really need to talk. Something important happened. I was just at a meeting of the--"  
Trevor wasn't really listening, lost in his own thoughts as he interrupted her, his voice soft. "You see that guy who just left, Claire?"  
She blinked, looking up. She could just see him outside the bar windows, walking past on the sidewalk and out of sight. "Umm, yeah... Trevor, some major stuff's happened, and--"  
Still distracted, he didn't seem to hear her, staring into space. "That man... his heart's hung up on this girl. Totally gaga over her. You could even say 'crazy' about her. But things keep getting in the way. A shame really, because he's a great guy. Know what he does for a living? He's a tax accountant. Pretty boring, right? But he told me about it. How when he's working, that for him... it's like each tax return becomes this grand, heroic quest. Chasing deductions, tracking down loopholes... like he's some larger than life hunter, reveling in his own imagined glory. Turning his own little life... into this vast amazing thing. In some ways I admire him... Maybe because I understand, more than you know..."  
Claire's expression was serious, an urgency in her eyes as she tried to get him to hear her. "Trevor, we really need to talk."  
As he looked over, his face brightened. "Really? Because I know of this small tribe in Uganda who start each conversation by licking the saliva off each other's tongues. Is that flavored lipstick I hope?"  
She gave him a dour look. "There is no such custom, Trevor."  
"Oh well. Worth a shot..."  
"Trevor, something serious has happened."  
"What, John Lithgow not letting the kiddies dance in his backwater little town?"  
"Trevor that revival party you threw. You know, where you decided to get delusionally reacquainted with you inner Cupid? The review board knows about it."  
he leaned contently back. "Yeah we were kinda loud, weren't we? Sorry if the respectables on the board got all scold-ish. In retrospect, the erotic skywriting might have been a touch over the top..." He looked at her. "Speaking of memorable erotic marks, is it suddenly cold in here or are you just happy to see me?"  
She gave him an annoyed look. "It's cold in here..."  
He nodded appreciatively. "Knew breaking the thermostat would be a good idea. Still... that shirt's probably getting the impression that you REALLY like me."  
"Trevor, your festival.... The whole thing was a huge mistake!"  
He blinked at her, standing up from the table, heading towards the bar and back to work. "Why? Why do they even care?"  
"Trevor you made the hospital look bad."  
He shrugged as she followed him. "So what. I always do that. So does sunlight, now that I think about it..."  
Claire touched his shoulder, turning him around. "Trevor, I just came from a fairly unpleasant meeting. One specifically called to bring me in and chew me out! I was lucky to leave with my skull intact..."  
"See, those padded headboards I gave you on your birthday paid off... So what's the big bad from your meeting of the virginal--... Excuse me, 'romantically challenged' members of the review board?"  
"Trevor, they were absolutely livid about what you did, the embarassement it caused to the hospital. They're furious about this whole thing in the park--"  
He looked at her in his own defense. "Hey, I would have invited them, but we were trying to actually have fun."  
"Trevor, this is serious."  
"What, one little party and they get all bent out of shape? Maybe this really is John Lithgow territory. They already know I think I'm Cupid. What's the big deal?"  
He started to walk away from her again. Claire stayed where she was, looking uncomfortable. Trevor noticed and turned around, perplexed at her reaction.  
"Claire?"  
She swallowed. "Trevor... they seem to think you've been making progress."  
He blinked, genuinely surprised by that statement. "Why?"  
She exhaled. "I lied."  
"You--..." He smiled, not believing what he was hearing. "You--"  
She nodded. "--lied. In my reports about you..."  
Trevor grinned even more at her revelation. "Wow.. Dr. Claire Allen finally walks on the dark side. Isn't that one of the signs of the apocalypse? You really lied about me? On official reports? Sober?"  
She looked uncomfortable. "No... I consistently wrote down the absolute truth every single time... Before I deleted that and made up the stuff they wanted to hear..."  
He smiled at her. "Why? A late blooming rebellious streak? Most people usually just try leather underwear and handcuffs."  
"Trevor, I was protecting you." Claire looked at him, concern in her eyes, growing quiet for a moment. "When you ran away and came back, they were concerned. The review board wanted results. So I was trying to protect you from... other measures."  
He thought about it. "Hmm... First you lie _to_ me... then you lie _for_ me. You're two for two. Are those pants you're wearing flame resistant? Because I know this rhyme that goes--"  
She snapped her fingers at him quickly in frustration as if trying to get the attention of a stubborn child. "Trevor! Focus! You've got to stop being Cupid. Now. Right now. For your own sake..."  
Trevor looked at her, his face growing serious for a long moment when he realized she really meant it. Without looking at her, he walked curtly around and behind the bar. "I'm not stopping."  
"Trevor, you have to. They'll never accept you the way you are! Especially if you keep rubbing their noses in it! There are only so many excuses of mine that they're willing to hear. Frechette is already itching for one more reason, one more pretense. They won't believe me again. I'm powerless here. Influenced out. If they decide on somethign radical, I--I can't stand for you Trevor!" She lowered her eyes. "And I can't fall for you, either..."  
He looked at her with affection. "Funny... Because you've already done both."  
They were both silent for a moment. Trevor put his hands out on the bar and looked down, thinking about what she had said, running it through his mind. "I'm not stopping, Claire."  
"Trevor, you're not Cupid. You're risking--"  
"I'm not stopping. I can't stop who I am." He leaned forward, looking into her eyes. "Can you say the same?"  
Her lips hung open, stung by that. There was a little anger in her tone. "Wha--what is that supposed to mean?"  
He looked at her intensely, the bar still between them. "You know how you feel about me. How I feel about you. But you've been denying it, denying it because of _Them_. Lying to me, lying to yourself... all on their behalf. When will you learn that you can't 'make' people. You can't make 'THEM'! You can only make yourself. And you've been denying that..."  
"Trevor, I'm your doctor! We can't do this no matter how we feel. I'm the only one keeping you out of a room with cushions in place of wallpaper."  
He groaned. "Oh. The old 'I don't make the rules, I just enforce them with an iron fist' speech."  
Her face was hard, annoyed. "It's still the truth."  
Trevor fired back. "No, it's still an excuse."  
"Trevor!" Her voice was exasperated, frustrated that he didn't see it, groaning to herself. "No! No it isn't, Trevor! They're serious this time! They're this close from taking you away from me!"  
Trevor blinked in genuine surprise as he noticed Claire's expression grow more frantic, almost losing control before him as she spoke, her eyes starting to glitter with held back tears.  
"If they ever took, I can't--... I can't even imagine how I'd--.... Trevor, if they--"  
"Hey..." His voice softened too, looking at her tenderly. His hand reached out to comfort her, laying it openly over hers on the counter. "Listen. They can't, Claire. You have me. They can't take me away from you. Not in any way that matters..."  
She sighed, wiping at her eyes. Reluctantly she pulled her hand out from under his, not wanting to. She looked nervously around to see if anyone had seen. Trevor swallowed, stepping back in disappointment, looking down.   
Claire's voice sounded raw, soft and fragile. "Trevor please. For me. I'm asking you. If you really love me you'll stop. Because if you end up in a some place that--... Trevor, why do you keep hurting me this way..."  
He sighed, resolved. "Because the only real truth anyone has, is to be true to themselves. I wouldn't be doing that if I pretended I was someone else. And I can't be afraid of what people 'might' do to me. I can only live my life..."  
Claire looked at him sadly.   
The bell above the door rang softly as a woman stepped into the bar. With one last sympathetic look at Claire, Trevor walked over to the new customer, standing behind the bar as he spoke to her clearly.  
"Hi... I'm Trevor Hale. God of Love. What can I get you for..."  
Claire turned as the woman smiled and ordered a drink. Uncertain, Claire walked away, no longer sure what to think anymore, as if she ever had been at all...  
  
Claire sat quietly in her office during a session with one of her patients. There was a woman seated across the desk from her, tearfully pouring her heart out about problems with her husband. But as she watched, Claire wasn't listening. The woman's mouth moved, but Claire didn't seem to hear the words. She started staring straight ahead, and her mind wandered, pre-occupied. Claire was thinking of Trevor, thinking about what he had told her about truth. She knew in some ways he was right. She knew how she felt, recognized it deep down, but she still refused to accept it out of fear. Where was the truth in that? It was almost as if she were--  
She knew what she had to do.  
  
Claire rushed into Trevor's apartment without knocking, looking everywhere as the door banged into the wall beside her. Trevor looked up in surprise from the kitchen table where he was seated eating a bowl of cereal, staring at her in bewilderment.  
The dazzling morning sun was pouring into the room, bright and certain ,beaming through the windows. Claire strode purposefully up to him through those golden rays, unwavering. "Trevor, I can't hide what we feel anymore. And I'm not taking no for an answer."  
She swept the bowl free of his stunned hands, the cereal and milk splattering onto the wall and floor. Grabbing his shoulders she shoved him into his chair, arching him back underneath her as she hovered passionately over him, holding him there. Trevor looked up into her face, fierce with adoration and a smoldering heat in his eyes. His breath caught helplessly in his throat with anticipation. She smiled confidently, making him wait and enjoying it. Then her lips dropping forcefully towards his warm mouth, feeling the flush of her heart cresting louder in her ears like a roaring wave, until--  
"Dr. Allen?"  
Claire's awareness snapped back to the quietness of her office again, realizing that her patient had finally noticed her distraction and was looking at her. Claire tried to clear her head, leaning forward slightly, answering the woman's question. "I'm sorry Elizabeth. My mind wandered a bit. Please continue..."  
Sniffling slightly, the woman spoke. "So what should I do, Dr. Allen?"  
Claire looked at her for a long time. A gentleness came into her eyes. "You really love your husband, don't you?"  
The woman blinked. "Yes... I do. Very much..."  
Claire nodded. "Then I think you should be honest with him about how you feel. Tell him, Elisabeth. Tell him all those fears you have locked up inside you of where this marriage is headed."  
"I've tried to..." The woman exhaled sadly. "I really have. But every time I do, it's just--... It's like--"  
Claire finished for her, from experience. "It's like this pit just opens up and you can't go through with it. Even though you know you should, even though you want to talk to him so badly, but... you just can't..."  
The woman nodded. "Yes. Exactly. I don't know why that is..."  
Claire looked at her.  
"You're afraid..." she said simply. Claire smiled in sympathy. "You're afraid of what might happen. Of what you might lose, or what you might find. The things you might risk going wrong. How it could change your life..." Claire paused, thinking to herself. "Afraid of getting hurt again..."  
The woman's lips thinned with worry, nodding in agreement at what Claire said. "I suppose I am... Guess I never looked at it that way before. Guess I didn't want to."  
Claire looked down. "It's hard. I know... Hard to face that fear. To open yourself up to it, instead of... putting up walls. But in the end, there's only one question for you, Elisabeth. You love him, you say want him to change, but... if you remember back to when you first felt that spark inside you. Who was the man you fell in love with?"  
Elisabeth blinked, seriously considering her words in silence.  
Claire leaned forward. "If you got everything you wanted and he changed, if he were different than he is now, would he still be the man you loved? You can't keep denying who he already is. Who he always was. And you can't run from the fact that you're still in love with who he always was, and that you can't change it..."  
Claire blinked as she spoke, as if realizing something. "Despite the risks to both of you... You won't resolve those fears until you face them..."  
Claire looked down at what she had been holding in her hands. She had been cradling it gently in one palm the entire session, fingers grazing over it with tenderness. It was a brand new origami rose Trevor had left for her, it's layer upon layer of delicate paper petals caught in time, as if it had just bloomed and always would. As she touched it, her thoughts were filled with him, and she knew what she had to do.  
  
Trevor slipped past the elevator doors as they slid open before him, stepping out into the darkened corridor outside of the coffee bar where Claire's singles group usually met. It was night, and the hallway was covered in shadows. The building was completely empty so late after hours. Curious, Trevor paused to look around, but no was there, not even a cleaning crew. He walked forward, crossing the hall to Cuppa Java. The glass door of the coffee bar was unlocked, a few lights glowing dimly from inside. Quickly Trevor opened the door, calmly walking in.  
The interior of Cuppa Java was dark and empty. All the chairs Claire usually had lined up in overly neat little rows for her singles group were packed away and put up for the night. Most of the usual day patron tables were gone too. Above the bar, a single bright point light shined down onto the bare floor where only a single table was.  
Trevor stepped further in, wondering what was going on. Looking around, he tried to see if anyone else was there. Then he saw her. Claire was there, standing in the shadows by the large window near the back of the room. Her outline was shadowed against the lights of the Chicago skyline beyond. She was facing away from him, her chin nestled onto the palm of her left hand, deep in thought as she looked out of the window.  
Trevor rotated one shoulder, loosening it up as he slowly walked forward. He could already tell from Claire's posture that she wasn't waiting for a party. Slipping his hands into his pockets, he stood there in the circle of light coming from above the bar, not sure what to say.  
"Claire?"  
She turned, finally realizing he was there. But she didn't come any closer, still a dark outline against the city. Her voice was soft, a sadness in it as she spoke. "Trevor... there you are."  
Pursing his lips, he tilted his head to one side slightly, expecting he wouldn't like where this was leading. He watched her stand in the shadows. "So you wanted to see me. After hours... in an empty coffee bar. What's up?"  
She sighed, her shadow lowering her head. "I"m glad you came, Trevor..."  
Trevor looked around the bar at all the stacked up chairs. He tried to fill the silence between them, speaking absently. "How'd you get in here?"  
There was the soft jingle of metal rattling together as she lifted her hand, shaking it. "I have the keys to the building. Umm... for the group..." she explained.  
"Oh... If I crave a late night jolt of overpriced caffeine, I usually just break in a window. Your way's better though." He nodded, looking up at her again. The side of his face was outlined in the bright light from the bar. "So why did you want to see me?"  
Her shadow watched him.  
"I wanted to see you because you were right, Trevor. We do have to finally talk about us..." Slowly she began to walk away from the window, until she stepped out of the shadows and into the light from the bar, illuminating the worry on her face. "It's time we talked face to face, Trevor... About how we feel."  
Trevor looked at her sad expression, not feeling very comforted by it. She certainly didn't look happy about her decision. He let out a tired breath. "Let me guess... This is the part where I have to convince you why we should be together."  
Claire swallowed, looking down. "No... This is the part where I convince you why we shouldn't be..."  
She walked over to the single round table centered on the floor. It was in middle of the same circle of light from the bar, surrounded by shadows. Carefully she sat down in the chair on her side. Another was opposite her where Trevor was. Looking gently up at him as he stood there, she drew her arms in tightly around her, waiting uncomfortably for him.  
Trevor gazed at her, the rest of the coffee bar dim around them. In the end he didn't come any closer, stubbornly crossing his arms, not wanting to hear her arguments.  
Claire remained calm, resolved, her eyes sad. Reaching across the table, she pushed out the chair on the far side. It's legs screeched across the floor, loud in the quiet room.  
"Have a seat, Trevor..."  
He stayed where he was, fighting it, still separated from where Claire was by several feet. Opening his mouth, he started to protest, but he stopped himself, no words coming from his lips. After a moment he moved reluctantly towards her, pulling out his seat. Placing his hands on the table, he started to lower himself down when he paused, looking at his right hand. His fingers were inadvertently touching hers, resting together on the table. Both of them tensed at the unexpected contact, waiting. They looked up at each other in silence. Trevor held his breath for a long moment, enjoying the feeling of her hand touching his, looking into her face. Why was it that no matter when he touched her, it always felt so perfect?  
Claire looked gently into his eyes, their fingers still in contact. This wasn't like before at the bar. Now there was no one there to see them. No one there to judge or dissaprove. But nonetheless, a sadness came in her eyes, a sadness flowing out from what she knew she couldn't let happen. Slowly she pulled her hand away, sliding it free of his.  
Disappointed, Trevor's lips tightened, before lowering himself the rest of the way into the chair. Leaning back, he looked at her, his face calm and defiant.  
They both sat there quietly for several long moments, two figures seated at an illuminated table in an otherwise darkened room. The long awaited 'talk' stretched on with no words, no compromises. Neither knew what to say as they sat there in silence alone, separated by the table between them.  
  
The head of the hospital review board was at home.  
He was seated behind a richly polished brown wood desk, his darkened study dim around him. The room's elegant walls were filled with shelves of books, framed degrees, all the accomplishments of a successful career and a prestigious position at the hospital. He was at home, working on various case files and progress reports, spread on the desk before him. A small golden desk lamp sprayed light down onto the documents, it's green porcelain hood glowing softly. Bent over the papers, the pen he held in his hand scribbled, the sound oddly comforting in the quiet. Engrossed in his work, he paused only to push his slipping glasses back up on his face.  
The rest of his house was quiet, everyone else asleep. But he enjoyed the silence, the serenity of it, allowing him to get his work done, concentrating on nothing else. He turned a page, the sound soft as he continued on the draft of the report he was writing, still engrossed.  
Suddenly the peaceful quiet was broken by the ring from the phone sitting on the polished surface of his desk. He looked over at it, pausing for a moment. As he continued to write he reached out with his free hand, picking the phone up and nestling the receiver against his ear.  
"Hello?"  
  
In his office at the hospital, Dr. Frechette was putting his work away. He was standing after what had turned out to be an extremely long day. He had his cell phone against his ear, having just called the head of the review board at home. All day, through an aggravating pile of work which had stretched endlessly into night, something had been squirming under Frechette's skin, something he needed to deal with. Something he knew he couldn't let wait until morning. So he had decided to call, even at this late hour.  
"Hello?" The head of the review board's voice came through the line again, but Frechette said nothing.  
Frechette's jaw twitched, a coldness in his voice. Finally he spoke, not bothering to announce himself, not needing to. "We need to talk..."  
"Dr. Frechette..." In his ear, the head of the review board's voice sounded surprised. "It's late Dr. Frechette. What's this about?"  
Still holding the cell phone, Frechette slipped his coat onto his shoulders, his jaw hard as he answered. "You know what this is about..."  
A sigh come through the line. "I'm afraid I do... It's about her."  
Frechette nodded. "And him... Dr. Allen and her out of control patient."   
Back in his darkened study at home, the head of the review board leaned back into his finely made leather chair, his face grim at the request.  
"When?" he asked simply.  
Frechette's reply came through the phone. "We can talk about it right now..."  
The man nodded, setting down his pen, already knowing Frechette would suggest that. As he thought about it, his eye glistened in the light from his desk, hard as steel. "Fine. Come by the house. I'll be waiting..."  
Standing in his office, Frechette was instantly smug, a confident smile on his face. "On my way..."  
Frechette hung up the cell phone against his ear, dropping it into his coat pocket. He looked contently out the window at the night skyline of Chicago. Finally, he would get a chance to clean up one long ongoing embarrassment to the hospital and the profession. He would finally fix the inept mistakes of Claire Allen's misguided approach. He would finally put both of them and their smug arrogance in their place. He knew it. It was only a matter of time.  
With a thin smile on his face, he reached out and turned out the light on his desk, plunging his office into darkness.  
  
Finished with her point, Claire tried to catch her breath as Trevor leaned back in his chair, sitting across the table from her, exasperated that their conversation had already degraded into a heated argument.  
Trevor shook his head. "I can't believe a so called relationship expert could still think that way!" Standing angrily up, he started pacing off to one side. "How is it that someone who's supposed to make me sane is driving me so crazy! The gods MUST be laughing at me..."  
Still seated, Claire glared at him, but she didn't give in. "I think that way because we both have to think that way, Trevor. The dangers of our current situation are more important than how we feel about each other. Don't you like your freedom? Going where you want? Doing what you want, unhampered by court ordered pharmaceuticals? Free to walk outside, away from locked doors and bitter orderlies? Better enjoy it while it lasts! We can't be together, Trevor. Because they will lock you up, lock you away if anyone else gets hold of your treatment. And they will, if we act on how we feel and they find out about it. It's not fair. But you'll never be what they want you to be."  
He stared at her. "Am I what you want me to be?"  
Claire looked away. "That doesn't matter..."  
"Yes it does." He stepped closer, an urgency in his expression as he looked into her eyes. Leaning forward, his hands were on the table. "It's the only thing that does matter. You love me, Claire. I love you. There's nothing stopping us from being together anymore..."  
There was disdain in her voice. "Except maybe the whole crush of reality."  
Trevor shook his head. "You just don't see it, Claire. You help people everyday. Why can't you help yourself? For months and months you searched for me, and when you finally found me, you backed away. Why? Why can't you accept how you feel about me?"  
"Feel about you?" she shot back. There was a hurt in her eyes, an anger in her voice. "Who are you, Trevor? Tell me... What am I in love with? A fantasy... A delusion. That's not good enough for me anymore. I'm not like you, Trevor. I can't live my life chasing shadows. I have to live in the real world, where there are just some things I can't risk anymore. Places deep inside that I just can't let hurt again. They've been hurt enough."  
Trevor blinked. "Why? Why does it hurt to simply accept me the way that I am?"  
Still angry, Claire lowered her eyes. "You are not Cupid, Trevor. You never were. That's just one memory loss replaced with another. It's a fantasy. It's all in your head."  
He paused, trying to lighten her mood, pretending to think about it. "Or... Maybe it's in yours... What if you've been imagining me all this time and I don't really exist?"  
She shuddered. "There's one disturbing thought... But you're still not Cupid."  
"Why not?"  
"Because eventually we have to grow up and accept that there's no such thing as fairy tales, no happily ever after endings. The world's a lot grayer, a lot harder than that. You can't be this, Trevor! No matter how much you want to be..."  
His face softened. "I can't be anything else. I am this. Maybe I need this..."  
Frustrated, she exhaled. "Then what? Let's say you are Cupid. Let's just throw the last bit of sanity in either of us to the wind and pretend it's true. Tell me. Do you honestly think the gods are just going to magically approve of you falling in love with a mortal?"  
Trevor didn't look away from her, certainty in his voice. "I don't care. You may not believe it, but there are risks on my side too. The difference is, I accept them. Because the only true power is love, Claire. The gods knew it. The gods feared it. They hated that I had that power of them, so they sent me down here. And when I was shot, I realized something. That maybe they abandoned me down here just to die. With no help, no powers, and only ONE rule. A rule I'm willing to break with you. Even if it kills me"  
Annoyed, she tilted her head, looking at him. "This could destroy us both, Trevor. It could destroy both of us."  
"So what! Claire the only way to avoid risk is to avoid living! I don't think us together is so impossible! But you seem to think we're a million to one shot. Well you know what? I'm willing to take that one. Because unlike you, I'm not afraid to believe."   
Claire slowly rose from her chair, turning to face him as she crossed her arms. Her eyes were moist again, a hopeless sadness in her voice. "Why, Trevor... What has there ever been, to make you think there's any hope for us..."  
"Because even at a million to one, I still see a chance! Don't you see? A chance you're scared to take."  
Her voice was louder. "Why, because unlike you I'm not blind to what's going on around us? What do you expect me to do, ignore evrything? Live in a fantasyland and bury my head in the sand like you? What do you want from me, Trevor!"  
"To take the risk! Don't hide yourself away because you're scared! Run through the sprinklers, Claire! French kiss your mailman, eat that extra doughnut, rip off your shirt when you score the winning goal! But don't be afraid to live your life..."  
Her voice was soft, defeated as she stood before him. "If they ever found out about us, Trevor, it would all crash down. Everything. It would be over. Your treatment, my career... You wouldn't be free anymore... After the drugs, you wouldn't even be you anymore. The review board--"  
Trevor stepped closer to her, one side of his face bathed in light, the coffee bar dark behind him. His voice was firm. "This has nothing to do with the review board, Claire. It has to do with you. You're so afraid of getting hurt, you run away before you can be. When I left Chicago--"  
Claire closed her eyes.  
Trevor continued. "--when I left, what was it that you missed? Me? Or the part inside you that cared for me. Did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?"  
Claire glared at him bitterly, stung by his words. "Meaning what?"  
There was sympaythy in Trevor's eyes. "Meaning love isn't about finding someone else. It's about finding those parts in yourself you always wanted, through them. Claire... for you love's always been about letting go. Letting go of Alex, Jack Conathan when his plane crashed... Letting go of your father when he left your mother. When is love finally gonna be about holding on?"  
Claire's tearful face was hard, eyes glittering with conviction. "WE... are never going to happen, Trevor. It's time you realized that. Never... Do you know what never is? Never is hard. Harder than diamonds, harder than time.. Never is the hardest thing in the world."  
He exhaled, his voice gentle. "But still not stronger than love... You're the only one stopping us. Why? You give me all these reasons, but that's not what it's really about... You weren't like this before. What changed? What made you think we were a 'never'?"  
Not looking at him, Claire started to pace nervously. "Just drop it, Trevor."  
"I'm not going to drop it."  
"I don't want to talk about this, Trevor."  
"Yeah... Honesty really tends to get in the way of lying to yourself."  
She stepped towards him angrily. "You want to know?"  
"I want to know."  
"You really want to know? What finally convinced me that we'll never work? Fine. I'll tell you. The last few months, Trevor. The last few months. Because when push came to shove, you forgot about me..."  
He gaped in disbelief, feeling unfairly critiscized. "Hello.. Whole rushing car, massive head injury in there you conviently manage to ignore--"  
"I'm talking about before that, Trevor." Fear blossomed painfully in her eyes. "Why did you leave Chicago, if not to forget me..."  
Trevor was speechless, not expecting that. "What..?"  
Claire couldn't bring herself to look at him, hiding a tear on her cheek. They both stood there alone in the coffee bar, surrounded by shadows, the city lights glittering through the window. "You left me, Trevor... I told you I loved you, and the first thing you did was... vanish. When you came back, the next thing you did was forget me. Maybe because deep down, that's what you really want, what you really need so you can go home. And I admit... some small part of me didn't wnat you to remember being Cupid. Not because that was better for you, because if you were back the way you were you might decideyou have to leave again.. You... _LEFT_ me, Trevor. Like Alex did. Like my father did... How do I know you won't just leave me again now..."  
"Claire, I'll never--"  
Tears fell abruptly down her face. "You left me! Every man I've ever loved has left me. Do you know how much it hurt when you did? What's stopping you from walking away right now! This may come as a suprise to an invulnerable 'god' like yourself but in my case, there's only so much hurt left in me."  
Trevor could see the anguish in her watery eyes, the wound that he had inadvertently caused. He tried to comfort her, his voice soft, but not coming closer. "Yes. I left, Claire. To protect you from them, not to hurt you. But I did anyway... Claire, I came back. You still haven't. You're still running. Truth is, you've been running all your life. I'm not running anymore. I love you."  
She sniffed, the tears stopping. "What am I running from, Trevor?"  
"From facing all the really important truths. The truths you can't prove, can't control. Like love... or hope. Feelings that when they fill you, feel better each time, like they never existed before that moment. Love. Hope. Belief. They're not tangible. They're not quantifiable. You can't put them in a labeled box of chocolates. They just are..."  
Claire looked at him with a sudden fondness, remembering how stubborn he alwaya was.   
Trevor nodded, a glint in his eye. "Starting to thaw out a little, aren't you?"  
She shrugged. "Maybe just a little... But I still haven't change my mind. You can't ignore what we both know. The dangers we see around us. I know you understand how the world really works, Trevor..."  
"Maybe. Or maybe the world's bigger than you think. With more possibilities in it than you realize. Miracles. Everywhere, there are miracles that people never know about, happening every day. Even in this very building..."  
Claire couldn't help but laugh softly to herself at his absolute conviction, the hopeful certainty in him. "Oh really... Fine, Trevor. Show me a miracle."  
Trevor's hands paused at his belt, as if about to do something he knew she would object to. Finally he shhok his head and smiled, changing his mind. "No... This will work too.. Follow me, Claire.."  
  
The head of the review board opened his front door, peering out at his doorstep, illuminated from a light above. Beyond it, a finely kept lawn stretched into the night. A curved brick driveway intersected it, and a car was parked there. The driver of the car was standing on his doorstep, staring at him with a dour look on his face as he waited.  
Dr. Frechette didn't smile. He didn't speak. He just waited. As the two men stood before each other in the cool night air, they both knew why he had come.  
The head of the review board accepted Frechette couldn't be put off any longer, no matter how much he would have prefered that. He let out a deep sigh, looking at him wearily.  
"Come in, Dr. Frechette..."  
Without saying a word, Frechette stepped into the house.  
The door closed behind the two men, locking out the driveway and lawn, leaving the doorway silent under a beautiful starry night sky that neither man had noticed even once.  
  
A metal door opened slowly, swinging out onto the rooftop of the building where Cuppa Java was several floors down. Trevor and Claire stepped out onto the pebbled surface, the same starry night sky stretching above them. Trevor looked all around, his steps crunching confidently forward, familiar with his surroundings even in the dim shadows created by the city lights. Behind him, Claire followed more cautiously, unfamiliar with where she was, having never been on the roof of the building before.  
"What are we doing up here, Trevor?" she whispered.  
Trevor led the way, not lowering his voice. "I'm gonna show you something. You mean you've never been up here before?"  
She blinked, trying to see, careful with her steps in the dark. "Never felt the need to, Trevor."  
"Oh. Too bad. Guess you and Alex preferred coffee bar floors to pebble burn..." He turned, offering his hand to her. "Come on, this is what I wanted to show you."  
She looked at him reluctantly, thinking to herself. Then carefully, she placed her hand in his, their fingers warm against each other. A contented wave coursed through both of them at that touch. Trevor sighed, her skin soft in his palm as their fingers clutched each other. He led Claire to an isolated spot on the flat rooftob, passing vents and pipes as they moved carefully, in no rush. The open rooftop doorway grew smaller behind them. Claire started to look around at their dark surroundings. Her hand was still in Trevor's as she took in the wide expanse of the city glittering around. The pebbles crunched under their steps.  
Trevor stopped in front of several wooden crates and some chairs that appeared to have been up there for some time. Someone must have hauled them up there long ago. Trevor and Claire's hands seperated when they were no longer walking. With a smile, Trevor looked up into the night sky, craning his head back as he gazed up at the distant stars glittering dimly far above.  
Claire felt a little cold in the night air, rubbing her arms. But she smiled, watching Trevor's face, stepping closer to his side. Finally, she looked up at the sky as well, watching the stars with him, the cool night air moving softly through her hair.  
Trevor was still looking up in wonder as he spoke. "One of the building's employees arranged this little make shift observatory up here. For star gazing, making out... that sort of thing. She's had it up here for years... Guess you never knew about it. I did..."  
She tilted her head slightly, looking at the stars, an amused glint in her eyes. "So for which reason did you bring me up here, Trevor? Plan on making out?"  
Blinking in surprise at her words, he looked over at her in the dim light. "No.. Brought you up here to show you a miracle, remember?"  
Claire said nothing, feeling a little flushed for some reason. But she still stayed close to him, their shoulders grazing each other as they stood side by side. When she looked over at him again, Trevor was still looking up at the stars.  
"There's always been something about the night sky..." he said reverently. "Something about those distant, unreachable points of light that fascinate people. I mean... people wish on them. Fall in love under them. Even worship them. For centuries people have been fascinated by them. But they're just these huge flaming balls of gas. Burning for nearly forever, shining across millions of miles. Each one capable of turning entire planets into blackened crisps. Nothing miraculous, really. Except for every single thing I just said... Some people just see stars, I see sparks. Still burning from the big bang. Caught suspended, frozen in time as they desperately try to hold on to that fire, the unquenchable heat and passion from that fraction of a millisecond when it all happened, keeping it to light up a cold universe... Sort of like love..."  
Claire looked up at the stars with new eyes. "You know Trevor, there are some scientific theories that describe all these tiny bubble universes, forming constantly in different realities. New stars, new galaxies being born every second. So somewhere, in some reality... there could be a big bang going on right this moment..."  
Trevor paused, thinking. "Am I the only one turned on right now?"  
Flashing her a flirtatious glance, he looked back up to the sky. "The stars are always there, Sparky. Even in daylight when you can't seem them. No matter how bad things get, they're there. Watching. Smiling... winking at us. Like they know something. Something they have to teach. Funny thing about stars... They're smarter than you think. I think they're miracles..."  
Claire shook her head, a small smile on her face as she looked up with him. "Not much of a miracle, Trevor..."  
"Maybe..." He looked over at her. "Or maybe it depends on how you look at it..."  
Trevor walked over to one of the crates, pulling something out as Claire continued to look up into the night sky. He walked up, sliding close in behind her until his face was next to hers over her shoulder, making her tense slightly. But Claire didn't recoil, didn't pull away, wanting him near.  
"Close your eyes, Claire..."  
Thinking about what might happen for a moment, she seemed skeptical. Trevor's skin felt warm, so close to her cheek. Finally she did close her eyes, deciding to play along as she tilted her face back to the sky. She felt rather than saw Trevor's arms lift on either side of her. Felt his fingers graze across her cheek tenderly, making her hold her breath, her lips parting. Trevor slid even closer to her, pressed in behind her. Claire's skin seemed to tingle at the sensation of their bodies pressed together, as she felt him slip something heavy over her eyes. There was a whine, faint and electronic.  
Trevor's breath whispered softly into her ear. "Ok.. Open your eyes, Claire..."  
She did, her face still tilted to the sky. Almost immediately she gasped in wonder at what she saw.  
"Oh my god..."  
The night sky was filled with stars, dazzled with distant points of light. She could see hundreds more now, perhaps thousands, perhaps millions. It was amazing. The sight filled her like a wave of deep reverence and warmth, like she was suspended in some eternal an awe inspiring musical chord under a glittering night sky unlike any she had ever seen before. What had been a few bright dots was now a luminous expanse filled with a swarm of glittering points of light, covering the sky from horizon to horizon. The universe seemed to have opened up to her, huge and twisting, bright through it's infinite depths, a grand celestial tapestry filled at once with woner and intent. Claire started to realize what she was seeing. The sky had a different texture to it. As she looked around the city's lights flared brightly around her like spotlights. She was gazing though low light goggles Trevor had placed on her head. But that didn't lessen the impact for her, the joy of how huge, how expansive and wonderful the universe was in that one moment. And that it had always been there without her realizing it, stretching invisibly over everything she had ever known as she now watched, amazed.  
"Trevor... This is... Wow... It's beautiful..."  
"Yes..." Trevor wasn't looking at the stars. Her was looking at her, the joy in her expression. His face was still beside hers as he stood close behind her, holding her shoulders gently, adoration twinkling in his eyes. "It is beautiful..."  
His breath was soft on her cheek as he spoke. "Sometimes there's more going on than meets the eye, Claire. There are miracles everywhere, if you just bother to look. The universe has more room than you think." Trevor smiled. "Like the song says, you can see the stars and still not see the light..."  
Claire's voice was still an awed whisper, looking around, now able to see her surroundings on the roof clearly. "How did you find this, Trevor?"  
"I didn't. It found me. The woman who set this place up wanted my help with something. Funny what you find when you're not looking..."  
Carefully, Claire pulled the low light goggles off of her face, turning her head to his, his face still there over her shoulder as he looked at her too. He was still so close, so warm. Their lips hovered closer, waiting, wanting. Claire held her breath, looking into his eyes without shame, and neither one pulled back.  
But in the end Trevor pulled away first, surprising her. Her lips almost imperceptibly chased out after his, before she caught herself. Gently he took the low light goggles from her hands and put them back in the crate. Claire stood there, watching him with a smile, not upset at all.  
"We should go back down, Trevor..." she said.  
  
They walked together out of the darkened stairwell from the roof and onto the top floor of the building. There was no one else there, just the two of them in the dim hallway as they stood in front of the elevator doors, waiting.  
Smiling, Claire pushed the button for the elevator. It glowed under her finger and she pulled back. "Thank you, Trevor. The stars were beautiful... Still not sure that constitutes a miracle, though..."  
"Cynic.." He looked at her, amused. "What does constitute a miracle?"  
She laughed. "Something a little less universally constant. Rare. Unlikely. Unexplainable. Improbable and impossible all at the same time. Miraculous..." she explained simply.  
"Like a therpist falling in love with her insane patient? Or a god of love god falling for a disbelieving mortal?"  
"I said miraculous, not misguided..." she teased. "A miracle should be one of a kind. Something that should never happen but does anyway. Against all logic or odds, taking you by surprise..."  
"Oh... That never happens..." he admitted playfully.  
The elevator door chimed as the cab reached their floor. The doors slipped open and Trevor and Claire walked into the lit interior.  
Turning, Claire pushed the button for the floor where Cuppa Java was. "No it doesn't. Time we realized the world isn't a movie. No soaring romantic orchestral accompaniment. No happy happenstance, no fortunate accidents, no lucky bumps that bump people together in the night, Trevor. And life definitely isn't like a box of chocolates..."  
The doors slowly closed on them, leaving the hallway dark.  
  
On the far side of Chicago, a night breeze gently blew through the night air, swaying tree limbs in it's passing. It moved lazily over the city buildings, picking up all sort of debris from the ground far below, before it blew itself past and was gone. Power lines swayed in it's wake, some teetering as if they would break. But in the end they didn't, growing steady again, calm. Then in the dark night, something white began to sweep down from high up in the air where it had been blown .  
It was single, long white feather, gently rocking in the air, twisting and turning as it fell ever closer to the dark buildings down below. Another following breeze pushed it sideways, skimming it across the roof of a smaller building, lifting it in an updraft before it gently began to fall again, twirling downward.  
Beneath it, power lines stretched innocuously above an alleyway as they came to a stop again after swaying in the breeze. Oblivious, the feather tumbled down towards the dark suspended wires beneath it. It swayed one way, then swooped another, riding the still air, moving past the power line on both sides as it dropped from far above. Finally the feather paused in mid air, it's momentum lost, before it finally fell straight down, landing delicately on top of the powerline. The air was still with anticipation.  
Nothing happened.  
The feather rested there for several moments, the alley quiet beneath it.  
Nothing continued to happen for a long time as the feather rested on the wire. There was no wind at all. Then almost imperceptibly, the feather began to tilt... until it fell off, twirling to the cement of the alley floor. Above the powerline was motionless, undisturbed, unconcerned.  
Until suddenly the utility pole at the end of the alley erupted into a shower of sparks. It exploded brigtly, followed by the next pole in the distance, and the next, moving in both directions, a rolling shower of golden sparks, dazzling points of bright light bouncing off the concrete like stars.  
Far far below, the city of Chicago was stretched out like a flattened jewel, glitterring in a gridwork of lights beside Lake Michigan. But then, one by one, the grid sections winked out, going dark as the blackout cascaded outward and spread quickly in a circle of black until evrything was down. For a moment the air was still and quiet, broken only by the distant sound of honking cars. Above, the stars glittered even more brightly than before, freed from the constant haze of the city's light in the darkness.  
  
Dr. Frechette was sitting across from the head of the review board in the man's study, the light from the lamp on the desk dimly illuminating them both as they talked.  
Dr. Frechette continued. "Obviously we've reached a breaking point here. The Trevor Hale problem has to be dealt with. Maybe we should try to--"  
Suddenly the light on the desk winked out, plunging them into darkness. Only starlight came through the window, the rest of the city dark.  
  
The cab of the elevator jostled suddenly, sending Claire and Trevor together as it jerked to a halt and the lights inside went out, flooding them in darkness. Almost instantly, dim battery powered emergency lights came on. The elevator was quite. Nothing was moving.  
Claire came out of Trevor's arms after the jolt when he had caught her. "What happened?"  
Trevor walked over, pushing the elevator buttons inside the halted cab. But they remained dark, and there was no response at all as he thought. "We lost power. Seems like a blackout. Looks like we stopped between floors..."  
"You mean we're stuck in here?"  
He looked up at the roof, thinking. "Seems that way... Wonder if I can get a ceiling hatch open or something--"  
He jumped, reaching for the ceiling. But almost instantly he slipped, falling to a awkward sprawl on the floor at her feet. Getting up, he tried not to feel embarrassed as Claire tried not to smile. Shaking it self consciously off, Trevor turned, putting his back against the elevator wall and sliding down, taking a seat on the floor. "Better settle in, Claire. We might be here a while..."  
Reluctantly, Claire did the same, sliding down to take a seat on the floor opposite him. She brought her knees up, crossing her arms over them, annoyed and not in a talkative mood. Across from her Trevor brough one knee up, resting his forearm across it. Claire glared over at him, angry that she was stuck there with him. Trevor simply smiled sweetly at her discomfort. Claire turned slightly sideways so she wouldn't have to look at him. The silence stretched between them as they sat in the dim light of the stopped elevator.  
Claire exhaled. "Great.... Just great." she said wearily, starting to search through her purse.  
  


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	6. finding pg 06

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Leaning forward, Jaclyn smiled, the lit match she held in her hand illuminating her face. Behind her, the apartment she shared with Champ was in complete darkness as she touched the small flame to the wick of a candle, quickly igniting it. The new candle flame slowly grew, providing more light. Jaclyn pulled the match back and blew it out, a thin wisp of smoke rising from it's burnt tip. In the tiny light of the candle, the bedroom behind her was still very dim. But the candle helped a little.  
A soft fluttering light on the hallway wall approached through the doorway behind her. Champ walked into the bedroom from the shadows beyond, cradling several flickering candles in his arms. He started to carefully place them all around the edge of the bedroom, filling it with a soft, gently light.  
"There. Found more candles in the kitchen, Jaclyn..."  
Her smiled glittered at him in the soft light. Taking him by surprise, Jaclyn playfully bounced over into Champ's arms.  
She looked into his face with sudden yearning, bringing her face near. Her body was pressed tightly against his, her lips hovering closer to his mouth until he could feel her enticing breath, soft and warm.  
"I love blackouts..." she moaned.  
Champ smiled back as he held her, enjoying her so near, so warm and real in his arms. Jaclyn's face looked so beautiful in the soft candlelight. He pulled her closer against him as they both stood beside the bed.  
"Really?" he whispered.  
Jaclyn nodded, already kissing his neck. "Umm-hmm. Candles... Darkness... No distractions... Kinda romantic...." She started gently kissing his chin, before her lips moved delicately upwards.  
Champ caressed her face tenderly as she kissed him. "You might not like it as much when it gets cold tonight."  
She smiled. "Then you better keep me warm..."  
Jaclyn fell back, pulling him down over her onto the bed beside them.  
They both dropped out of sight, candles flickering dimly all across the bedroom. After a moment or two, the phone suddenly rang from the end table beside the bed.  
Champ came back up into view, sitting on the bed and gasping for air, his mouth tingling. "Apparently the phone still works. So much for no distractions..."  
Straightening her shirt, Jaclyn exhaled as she crawled out from under him and twisted her body around so she could stretch her arm towards the ringing phone. Picking it up, she pressed it to her ear. Behind her, Champ was undeterred, already back on more important things, leaning down over her as he kissed her neck.  
As Champ's tongue tickled her skin, Jaclyn tried to keep her voice from wavering. "H-Hello?"  
"Jaclyn? It's Claire."  
"Claire? Hi... Oh god..."  
"What did you say?" Claire sounded curious.  
Jaclyn sat up, pushing Champ's face forcefully away. Her shove instantly slipped him too far off the edge of the bed, and he fell to the floor with a thud.  
"What's wrong, Claire?" Jaclyn leaned forward.   
Claire's voice came through the phone. "Did you lose power over there too?"  
"Yeah... Outside our bedroom window, it looks like the whole city was hit. Where are you Claire? Are you okay?"  
"Yes. We're fine. It's nothing serious. It's me and Trevor. We're stuck..."  
Jaclyn blinked. "I always suspected Trevor was a little kinky, but I never--"  
"--in an elevator, Jaclyn. We were, I mean we are, in the elevator outside Cuppa Java. The power went out and now we're stuck between floors. There's no one else in the building. Could you come get us?"  
"OK--" Jaclyn's brow wrinkled with sudden anxiety. "Ok. Don't panic, Claire. Remember, deep cleansing breaths. And no panicking. Try not to think about being trapped in a tiny, tiny little suspended box that could drop at any moment. With Trevor... Stay calm, avoid any eye contact that could lead to confrontation and get rid of any blunt or sharp objects. I'll get over there right away. But you're ok otherwise?"  
Claire sighed. "Yes... If you can call being stuck in a miniscule space with a man who's ego's big enough to consider himself the god of love and me not throttling him yet 'ok', then yes. We're fine. On second thought... you probably better hurry..."  
Jaclyn smiled. "Ok. Be right there. Remember, around you not to you, calm center of light, cleansing breaths.."  
"Thanks, Jaclyn..."  
Jaclyn hung up the phone, sitting on the edge of the bed. Champ sat down beside her, rubbing his sore hip from its abrupt impact on the floor.  
"What's wrong?' he asked.  
She looked at him. "Trevor and Claire are stuck in an elevator."  
"Good for them..." Not really listening, he leaned onto her again, starting to kiss her neck.  
Distracted for a moment, Jaclyn moaned at the sensation, enjoying it, before she forced herself out of it. "No Champ. We got to get over there right now..."  
Now he was nibbling delicately on her ear, making her twitch. "They'll be alright for a few minutes.."  
Pulling back, Jaclyn turned Champ's face towards hers between her hands, a little concerned. "Are you kidding? Claire. Trevor. Small box? Tinder meets flame..."  
He shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen?"  
"Gunplay..."  
Champ ignored her, already kissing Jaclyn's lips in soft taps. She couldn't help it, bending herself towards him in response, not able to stop herself.  
He chuckled, tasting her lips warm against his. "Terrible for them. Really too bad... I'll miss them..."  
"Champ, we have to go and... and..." Her words were a distracted whisper, moaning in a daze as her hands began roaming across his strong back, losing herself.   
"They can wait." He answered, still kissing her.  
"Champ..."  
He didn't stop, now kissing expertly on the soft ivory white skin of her collarbone to convince her. "Five minutes... Tops..."  
"Gee just what every woman wants to hear.."  
As she panted, Jaclyn covered her mouth over his, biting his lower lip.  
"Ok... Maybe twenty minutes..." he breathed in response.  
Champ's hand slipped under her shirt, sliding up across her stomach.  
"You're right," Jaclyn moaned, finally giving in as she threw her arms tightly around him. "I'll miss them too.."  
Her lips locked forcefully onto his, kissing him greedily.  
Panting through their kisses, Champ spoke around her hungry mouth. "We'll give them a nice eulogy..."  
Now completely entangled in each other, they both fell down onto the bed again and out of sight, the candles still flickering behind them.  
  
Another match flared into view in the darkness, its flame flickering brightly as it was held under the tip of a cigar. The cigar finally caught, leaving the tip glowing red. Leaning back in his chair, the head of the review board inhaled the smoke deeply. He looked across his desk to Frechette, who was standing, looking out the window of the darkened study, his cigar already lit.  
The two men were both comfortably into the discussion at hand, despite the blackout. Behind them, a single, thin candle glowed on a bookcase shelf. But it gave off little light, leaving the room ominously dark. The two men were on the outer edge of it's glow, mere shadows as they continued their plans.  
Frechette finally turned away from the window, pulling his cigar down from his mouth. There was a thin, confident smile on his face as he stood in the deep shadows, his voice full of sly intent when he finally spoke to the head of the review board.  
"So... Alternative pharamaceutical treatment possibilities for Mr. Hale. Where were we?"  
  
Claire groaned in frustration as she sat on the floor of the elevator. "This is all your fault, Trevor."  
He blinked. "Don't get all pissy at the world because you're stuck in here. And repressing some marginal claustrophobia apparently."  
She glared over at him. "I'm not pissy at the world, Trevor. I'm pissy at you."  
"Me?"  
"YOU. You're the reason I'm stuck in here."  
Trevor held up his hands. "Hey, no reason to hold a grudge against me, Claire. I'm grudgeless here. I didn't know this was going to happen--"  
"Yeah, ironic considering your all knowing life style choice..." she snapped back. "Besides. I won't be holding a grudge, Trevor. I fully intend to forgive your corpse."  
"What did I do?"  
"If you weren't so stubborn and had listened to me in the first place, we wouldn't be stuck in here..."  
Lowered his voice, he mutterred to himself. "Enjoying your company too, Claire..."  
Claire looked up towards the ceiling at the dim emergency light, wondering how long its batteries would last. The walls seemed so much closer now. She didn't remember the elevator seeming so small when they had first came in. Could the walls be shrinking? Nervously, she started drumming her fingers on her knees, growing more and more anxious by the moment.  
"I hate waiting..." she sighed. "Come on, Jaclyn, where are you?"  
  
Jaclyn's laugh was soft in her bedroom, the sound coming from underneath the moving surface of the bed's sheets where Champ and Jaclyn's squirmed and writhed out of view. The large undulating mass shifted slightly, Jaclyn still giggling as it moved across the bed. Then it went too far, and the mass fell off the side of the bed and out of view, sheet and all. Jaclyn cried out, but not from the fall. The remaining mattress covers instantly yanked off the mattress and fell on top of them. From the sound of their moans, Jaclyn and Champ hadn't even noticed where they were now, not stopping.  
  
Trevor and Claire were sitting across from each other on the floor of the small elevator, their backs against opposite walls as they faced each other. Claire looked annoyed, not wanting to answer Trevor's question, and definitely not wanting to be there. Trevor looked at her expectantly, still waiting, before giving in.  
"Ok, guess I'll have to answer that one two," he said. "Let me think. Best job in the world. I'd have to say... Jennifer Aniston's wife."  
She gave him a dry look. "You're a guy, Trevor."  
"No, I meant to watch..."  
Claire sighed. "And to think you claim to inspire sonnets..."  
"Hey... That particular little image might inspire me to scribble a little x-rated something down..."  
"Jennifer Aniston..." Claire thought about her, before looking back up, deciding to ask him something. "She's cute, Trevor. So. Between her or me. Which do you prefer?"  
He gazed at her affectionately. "She may have more flash... but you have more light."  
Claire chuckled. "Still not quite on a Shakespeare level, is it?"  
He shrugged, eyeing her . "Not everything has to be. But hey. Don't sell yourself short. In the rhyme of life, you're definitely still the couplet..."  
"Leave it to you to turn poetry into a sexual innuendo. Believe it or not, Trevor, not everything is about sex..."  
  
Champ leaned back, totally exhausted as he lay on the floor beside Jaclyn, panting heavily. The blanket was pulled up around both of them, covering them as Jaclyn breathed quickly against his sweaty chest, resting her head in contentment as she tried to catch her breath too. Around them, the room still danced with the flickering light of dozens of candles. As their breathing finally slowed back to normal, they lay there, rested in each other's arms, reveling in that blissful release. Jaclyn smiled, still resting her cheek on his chest.  
As Champ lay there looking up at the ceiling, he couldn't help it. He looked concerned as his mind worked, trying to think of something.  
Jaclyn hummed pleasurably. Looking up, she noticed his concerned expression.  
"Champ... What is it?"  
Absently, he ran his fingers through her wet hair, his mind still thinking. "I just got this feeling... this sense that we forgot something..."  
She smiled wickedly, turning her head as she gently began to kiss his chest. "Oh... I think we covered all the memorable alignments..."  
"No, not that. Wasn't there something we were supposed to do?"  
"Umm..." Jaclyn paused as she stroked his chest with her fingers. Her brow furrowed, searching her memory. They slowly looked up at the candles around them, wondering why they were there, unexplained in the dark.  
Suddenly they both turned to each other, their eyes growing wide.  
"Trevor and Claire..."Champ said in distress.  
"In the elevator..." Jaclyn answered, just as shocked at what they had done.  
They both scrambled quickly off the bedroom floor, grabbing for their clothes, having completely lost track of time. Jaclyn dashed over to the dresser. Champ fought to keep his balance as he forced his pants on in a rush.  
He picked up his wrist watch from the end table as he buttoned up. "Oh god... It's been forty minutes... They're gonna kill us!"  
"Or each other..." Jaclyn ran by, no longer listening to him as she frantically pulled a shirt on over her head, twisting futilely. "I'll get our coats..."  
"I'll get the car..." Champ ran out of the bedroom.  
  
Still seated on the floor across from an unintrested Claire, Trevor was chattering away to pass the time.  
"Still not the wildest party I've been to. See there was this one time in Cairo when I found this small underground dance club that the Pharaoh didn't know about--" With a smile on his face, Trevor paused, engrossd in the memory of his own story, not bothering to look up to see that Claire was not. She watched him skeptically, not believing a word of what he was saying. Abruptly she interrupted him.  
"You were in Cairo, Trevor?"  
"Yeah. Lots of times. It's been awhile though... Anyway, it was wet t-shirt night on the Nile. Those ancient egyptians really had some ravenous appetities. Including the Pharaohs. Huge orgies that went on for days. Intresting fact, did you know that the Ancient Egyptians believed people actually thought from inside their hearts?"  
Claire smirked slightly, smiling as she leaned her head back against the elevator wall. "They must have loved you, Trevor..."  
"Actually, they didn't. At least Cleopatra didn't. I caused her a world of trouble, but that's a different story. Lots of people aren't happy to see me sometimes. You'd be surprised at how unpopular I can be."  
"I wouldn't be that surprised..."  
He went on, ignoring her tone. "Anyway, back to my history lesson. Wildest party. Like I was saying there was this dance club behind a little egyptian building where the crowd would oil you up and--"  
Suddenly he was interrupted as Claire's cell phone rang. Already waiting impatiently with it in her hand, Claire gratefully jerked it up to her ear.  
"Jaclyn, where the hell are you," she said immediately.  
  
Jaclyn was sitting beside Champ.  
They were inside his car as it raced down the darkened city streets of Chicago towards the building where Trevor and Claire were trapped. She looked nervously over at Champ driving as she tried to answer Claire's question. "I'm... sorry, Claire. We were a little... delayed."  
In the elevator, Claire blinked. "Delayed? Delayed by what?"  
Jaclyn paused, searching for a reasonable answer. She looked up at the absolutely empty stretch of road before her, not a car in sight. "Umm... traffic."  
"Is it bad?" Claire's voice came through the phone, sounding a little concerned.  
Crossing her fingers, Jaclyn hoped her voice didn't give her away. "Yeah. Total madhouse out here..."  
Claire sighed, looking over at Trevor sitting across from her on the elevator floor. "Ok... Just come get us as soon as you can. I think I'm about to suffer an overdose of Trevorality. His charms have turned flimsier than a Jennifer Lopez award dress..."  
Jaclyn nodded, holding onto the dashboard as Champ raced around an empty corner, over compensating for why the two of them were late. She tried to keep her head from spinning as the car wheeled around . "Just hold tight, Claire. We're on our way..."  
"Thanks, Jaclyn..."  
Lowering her voice in the elevator, she snuck a glance at Trevor, who wasn't paying attention to her. "Hurry... Please..." she whispered  
"Right. Bye, Claire." Jaclyn hung up the cell phone and grabbed on as Champ squealed around another corner, tying to keep her balance in the passenger seat.  
"Champ, faster..."  
Concentrating on the road, he tried not to smile. "Where have I heard that before?"  
Strange lights started flashing into his eyes. It took a second until he realized they were reflecting off the rear view mirror into their faces. The back windshield glowed brightly with pulsing colors and they heard the brief wail of a siren as the lights grew closer.  
Looking into the rearview mirror, Champ growled in frustration.  
Jaclyn looked back, worried. "What's going on?"  
They both looked into each other's eyes.  
"Another delay..." Champ groaned.  
  
Claire looked at her watch, before finally answering Trevor in a somber tone. "For the last time, I don't want to argue about this. I've told you why it didn't work out and I'm tired of talking in circles with you. Trevor, we're stuck in a small place, in an empty building... Can't we just drop it?"  
"You can't just drop how your heart feels about something, Claire. Neither can I. Too bad the high and mighty Dr. Allen doesn't see it. Do you ever get saddle burn sitting on that high horse of yours or did it finally just callous over?"  
"Trevor... We'll just never agree on this..." she said seriously.  
"Why not?"  
She groaned. "Because it was a stupid movie! The plot was terrible, the dialogue totally ridiculous, and that group dance scene at the end. That was just... _bad_. No matter how much you argue, you'll never convince me otherwise."  
"Yeah, but Rachel Leigh Cook was cute."  
She sighed. "Trevor, please. It's late. I'm tired. Could we please just stop fighting for once and agree to disagree?"  
He smiled. "Sure... I'm game for a truce."  
"Thank you..."  
They were both silent for several long moments of peaceful silence. But Trevor couldn't leave it at that. "So are we to the part yet where we touch, we cuddle... and you beat my sword into a plowshare?"  
Claire groaned, looking down at her watch again. "Why don't suspension cables ever break when you want them to..."  
  
Champ and Jaclyn were standing sheepishly beside his car. There was a police officer in front of them, issuing a ticket. They both looked eager to get going, restless as he wrote out the ticket. The officer looked up and noticed, staring at them for a long moment, before going back to what he was doing. He intentionally took his time to spite them. Champ and Jaclyn groaned when he starte writing slower. The lights atop the police car sweept brightly through the dark air of the blackout.  
  
Sitting in the elevator, Trevor leaned his head back on the wall, suddenly introspective. "It's strange. Now that I have all my memory back, I remember all sorts of things..."  
His gaze lifted over to her, genuine feeling in his eyes. When he spoke, his words were soft and heart felt. "Believe it or not, even lacking a specific context because of my memory loss, as soon as I saw you, I remembered kissing you..."  
Claire's face softened, a little suprised. "Really?"  
He nodded, thinking about the memory. "Yeah... I didn't know who you were of course. Didn't know who I was. But the first time I saw you, I knew. That I always remembered. I still do... Outside your office, leaning you back in my arms..." Trevor exhaled softly, simply taking in how beautiful she looked in that light. "And I remember the moment..."  
Curious at his tenderness, Claire tilted her head, her voice soft. "What moment, Trevor?"  
There was almost a sadness in Trevor's eyes, as if hurt by the memory of what he had lost. "You ever have that moment..? Right after the best moment of your life. When all you want, is to get it back..."  
A silence stretched between them as they considered his words. Seated on the floor of the elevator across from each other, backs to the wall, they were strangely alone in the other's company, as if they were holding back. But at the same time they both felt so close to each other, aware of how much each meant to the other. They were able to feel it between them, hovering, touching, connecting them, as if there was no space between them at all. They felt a palpable sense of being there together, caught alone inside that intimately confined space, just the two of them.  
Their eyes locked on each other and suddenly it was as if the rest of the world didn't exist and didn't matter. It was down to the two of them there, no walls, no pretenses, nothing between them except what they both knew. Looking into each other's eyes, they could feel that awareness without saying a word, see it in the other's sad gaze. It was a chasm of bittersweet longing that they both felt, lingering deep inside them, tingling with what they both wanted but couldn't have.  
Claire's voice became softer for once as she opened up, not holding back. She spoke gently, a sadness and honesty in her tone. "Trevor... You know we'll never work. There's no way we would work together. Think about all the things over the past years that have gotten in our way. Something is always stopping us. Over and over again. Like the stars, or maybe fate... is trying to tell us something."  
Sighing, Trevor didn't argue for once, lowering his eyes. "Something like what..."  
Claire's eyes were tender, brimming with tears from the knowledge of the love they both felt but couldn't surrender themselves to. "Like maybe... we're just not meant to be."  
His gaze was steady on hers, sitting across from her on the floor of the elevator. "Claire, there are lots of 'meant to be's out there that never are... Because people won't let them..."  
She sighed, her voice a sad whisper. "Then... they weren't really meant to be."  
He watched her. "Or maybe that's what what people tell themselves to sleep at night... Claire I think we're great together. You fix minds, I fix hearts... We make a great pair."  
She couldn't look at him. "What we want, or what we think, isn't enough, Trevor. We live in different worlds, you and I. We're not even compatible..."  
"Why? Because you're a therapist and I'm accused of delusions? That's perfectly compatible, Claire. We fill in the parts the other one needs. I needed you. To show me what love really is, what it's really about. For the last 5000 years I was just an idiot with a bow until I fell in love with you. Until I loved you. I am in love with you, Claire. Down to the last part of me. Not because of some game. Not some scorecard string of beads, or notches in a back column of the Parthenon. But because of how I feel about you. Something I never felt before you. And you need me too, Claire. You've needed me since the day we met. To tell you the stuff you refuse to tell yourself. The stuff you already believe... I'm the pretense that lets you follow your heart. Just like you... let me find mine..."  
"There's more keeping us apart..."  
"Like what, Claire? You trying to protect me? Is that it? Sacrificing what we both want so you can protect me? Funny, because when I left I wasn't trying to forget you, I was trying to protect you too. From what they would do to you, to your job and your life if they found out you had fallen in love with one of your delusional patients. I know that's all most people will ever see when they look at me. But you know what? I was wrong. Wrong to leave, wrong to doubt, and wrong to throw us away. There I was, trying to save you, and there you were trying to save me. But we were both wrong. Maybe in the end, we just have to save each other."  
"It's still more than that..." she said desperately.  
"What?" He moaned in frustration. "What then?"  
She seemed reluctant, looking away. "It's not about them, Trevor. It's about us. Not about protecting us from them, but protecting us from ourselves. The parts of you that I love are the parts that everyone else holds against you. And it wouldn't matter to me. If we're together, you'll never get better. Never give up on being Cupid. And I wouldn't want you to. So as long as you love me, you'll never change. Or for as long as I love you... The truth is you're no good for me and I'm no good for you. The cost is too high, the risk is too great for both of us."  
He lowered his head. "Because you think I'm crazy..."  
"No..." she looked at him fondly. "I don't think you're crazy. I see you. I know you. Cupid or not... It's the rest of the world that doesn't seem to fit..."  
"So what, we try to protect _us_ from _us_? We can't do that. No one can." He laughed softly to himself. "Claire, If I ever gave up on you, then I would be crazy..."  
There was an amusement in her eyes. "Well maybe you should beat the rush before I join you. How can I love you, Trevor? How can I let myself love you. Every rational, objective part of myself tells me it's a mistake. A mistake to love a delusional man who thinks he's Cupid. But over and over and over... I keep coming back to that mistake. So what fixes this? What possible argument can you make to counter... myself?"  
Trevor smiled at her question, a knowing glint in his eyes. He answered confidently, as if quoting. "..._'Sometimes people change their patterns. Sometimes they live their lives in a way... that they think is best for them. Until something, or someone, makes them want to change'_..."  
Claire smiled, surprised he knew she had said those words. "I told you about that?"  
Pleased, Trevor shrugged. "Sure.. Took a few drinks in you. That's good advice you gave to Heather...." He gazed at her with affection. "Maybe you should take it."  
Claire nodded to herself, reconsidering. She looked back up at him for several moments, beginning to smile. "Maybe I should..."  
They shared a long glance, smiling at each other, neither looking away. Genuine warmth passed across their faces, uncovered and open. The moment stretched between them, silent and content. Suddenly Claire's cell phone rang. She slowly picked it up, her tender gaze not leaving Trevor's.   
"Hello?"  
  
Jaclyn was standing outside Cuppa Java with her cell phone to her ear. Behind her, Champ was lighting the darkness with the beam of light from the flashlight in his hand that he usually kept in his car. He was shining it on the small piece of paper he was reading as he walked behind her.  
"265 dollars for a traffic ticket?" Not paying attention, Champ bumped into Jaclyn when she stopped, still in shock at the fine.  
Jaclyn ignored him. She looked at the sealed elevator doors in the dim glow of the flashlight. She spoke into her cell phone again.  
"Claire, it's us. Champ and I are here outside Cuppa Java. Everything's still blacked out all across Chicago." She looked upwards towards the ceiling, her voice concerned. "Do you know what floor you're stuck on?"  
Claire's voice answered through the small cell phone speaker. "No. Somewhere near the top I think..."  
"Umm..." Jaclyn turned in place, at a loss. "Champ, what do we do?"  
He paused, thinking for a moment. "Let's go into Cuppa Java and see if we can find the number of the building super somewhere."  
Jaclyn turned her attention back to her cell phone. "Ok, Claire. We're going to try to find a number down here. Maybe someone can help get you out. Just sit tight..."  
Inside the elevator, Claire smiled as she looked over at Trevor. "Thank's Jaclyn. Whenever you can... There's no rush."  
Standing in the hallway, Jaclyn blinked at the change in Claire's tone, caught off gaurd. "Ohh.... yeah, ok. Guess I'll.... I'll call you back, Claire... Bye."  
She hung up the phone.  
Champ noticed Jaclyn's reaction. "What is it?"  
Jaclyn seemed distracted. "Umm... nothing. Come on."  
Jaclyn and Champ moved off into the darkened interior of Cuppa Java, the beam of the flashlight sweeping before them. Behind, the doors of the elevator grew dark again.  
  
Minute after minute passed.Trevor and Claire remained stuck in the elevator, the unseen city of Chicago covered in darkness all around them. But sitting in that small space together, neither of them seemed to notice, their arguments long gone. The harsh words and hurt feelings were forgotten as they talked, a long revealing talk, just enjoying the other's company. Both had completely lost track of time as they opened up to each other.  
An honesty was evident in the fragile edge to Claire's soft words as she told her story. Trevor listened intently, now sitting next to her along the wall as she spoke.  
"Must have been hard," he said sympathetically.   
She nodded, looking straight ahead, lost in her memories. "It was hard. It was one of the hardest things I've ever gone through. Getting used to the fact that my mother and father, two people I had counted on my whole life like this pillar, this solid center of my whole world, didn't love each other anymore. I mean, sure. We all had felt it and didn't talk about it. Pretended to ignore it. Me, Mara, Beth... But in the end to finally be confronted by what we knew, having to face it, hear the words... I can still see the looks on both my parent's faces. It almost tore our family apart. It was toughest on Beth, she was the youngest. Mara and I helped her get through it as best we could. We had to rely on each other. Our own support system. We got each other through it. For awhile we were very close. Strange how me and Mara later grew apart... A defense, I guess. But in a way, you helped us back together at our class reunion. Which is funny, because when I first met you, I thought that--... Well, never mind what I thought."  
Sitting beside her, Trevor leaned closer, curious. "Come on. Say it, Claire. Don't hold back. What were you going to say?"  
Her mouth wrinkled into a smile, a little embarrassed as she looked over at his face beside hers. "It's silly really. I mean they called me to the hospital, and there you were. This delusional man, sitting on a hospital bed. Hitting on all the nurses. Claiming to be the god of love. Seemed like you fell into my lap by pure, blind luck. And for awhile, I thought..."  
Claire's face grew sad. "For the longest time... after my mom and dad divorced... I don't think I even believed in true love anymore. Not really. I mean, I thought people could be happy together. But not true love. But ever since I've known you, seen what you were trying to do, I wondered if... maybe that's why you came into my life. To remind me..."  
He smiled at her. "You've always believed in true love, Claire. I recognize that glint in your eye, when you get it to work between two people. And it's not pride at some clinical success. It's because deep down you believe. You didn't need me to remind you of it. Just yourself..."  
For a long moment, she held her gaze on his, feeling the conviction he felt about what he was saying.  
Looking down, Claire laughed softly.  
  
Several floors below them, Champ and Jaclyn were in Cuppa Java, still searching frantically, looking for something, anything at all that would point to who they should call.  
They both opened drawers and looked through stacks of papers and reciepts from the coffee bar. But as they searched, they found nothing. The floor around them was starting to fill with dropped peices of paper as both continued to frantically search in the beam of Champ's flashlight.  
  
Trevor's back was against the wall, sitting beside Claire as he spoke. They both stared straight ahead. "They were both stubborn. Just couldn't see it, I guess. The fights were bad... When they fought, continents disappeared. So they never got together again. My parents never realized that you can't let fear get in the way of love. And that in the end, you have to tell yourself, it's worth the risk..."  
They were both staring straight ahead, side by side when Claire spoke.  
"You're right, Trevor..."  
That suprised him coming from her, and he laughed. "Don't think I've ever heard that exact sequence of words pass you're lips before..."  
"Now that makes twice in one night, Trevor..."  
He chuckled. "Must set some kind of record."  
Claire smiled at him. "Guess that's what you pass off as wisdom."  
Pleased, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Hey. Lots of people come to me for my knowledge and insight, you know."  
"I know." Claire nodded. "I really should talk to the orderlies about locking those doors on the ward a little tighter."  
"From the mouths of babes..." He looked at her appreciatively. "Did I mention how great that sweater looks on you? I'd love to nibble off that fashion plate..."  
She looked at her watch. "Fourteen minutes... twenty three seconds between innuendoes that time, Trevor. Not bad. Another record."  
"Damn. Was hoping for twenty."  
"Night's still young..." Claire smiled. "With all of your claimed godly omniscience.... It's not like you know the secret of life."  
"Course I do..."  
She turned her head to him sitting beside her, skeptical. "Right. I believe you, Trevor."  
He blinked at her reaction, confused. "Doesn't everyone?"  
Claire shook her head, smiling at his audacity. "Ok. I'll play along. Tell me. What's the secret of life."  
He gazed at her, adoration in his eyes, watching her like she was his whole world, his whole reason to exist. Claire paused when she noticed that, a warmth passing through her at the love in his gaze.When Trevor spoke, his words were soft and sure, his eyes not leaving hers.  
"It's no big secret. Simple really... Secret of life? Find what you love..."  
Claire flushed at him so close, the warmth in his words filling her as his shoulder rested against hers. When he said it, it all seemed so simple, so clear to her. For once, she let herself imagine a new 'what if' in a big universe. She watched him, thinking, hoping, so many unheard of possibilities working through her head.  
Her voice was certain, her words soft. "Trevor, if I have to choose between the risk or the fear, in the end... I choose you..."  
He paused. "What does that mean?"  
Claire understood. She had been such a fool, a fool the whole time for not seeing it, for being to scared to see. But it wasn't too late. She still had a chance to fix it. The chance she had always wanted but had backed away from. In that moment, it was her decision alone, her final choice. No one else could do what she already knew.  
She knew what she had to do.  
Claire rose up, moving eagerly over in front of him. Trevor blinked in surprise, pulling back slightly as he wondered what she was doing. Claire didn't stop, drawing her face closer to his. Trevor's breath caught, wondering what was going on.  
She looked into his eyes, but there was no fear in her, no doubt in her gaze. Trevor did nothing, waiting to see what she would do. Her lips parted, yearning for his. Trevor's hand came up, tenderly caressing her cheek, suprising her when she noticed something.  
"Trevor... You're trembling..."  
"Yeah. Guess I am.. But that's good..."  
Claire smiled. Then out of nowhere she forcefully shoved his shoulders back against the elevator wall, leaning him down underneath her as she hovered over him. The air seemed to spark and tingle around them, holding them up. Warmth flashedthrough their bodies as Claire paused, confident and sure, making him wait. Then she couldn't fight it any longer.  
"Trevor... I can't hide what we feel anymore. And I'm not taking no for an answer..."  
Her lips dropped towards his warm waiting mouth, the sudden rush of her beating heart cresting louder in her ears like a roaring wave, until--  
  
THe music started.  
Jaclyn and Champ were still searching inside Cuppa Java by flashlight when suddenly the bar lights flooded back to life, illuminating the interior. Every light in the coffee bar turned on for some reason. Turning slowly, they both looked out the window in sheer wonder as the power started blinking back all across the city, spreading outwards into the distance from where they were as buildings started to glitter with power again. Not a single light in the city remained turned off, all of them inexplicably glowing brightly. An upbeat song began to play, happy and swing like, an old big band standard. A woman's voice began to sing.  
  
_**I never cared much for moonlit skies,  
I never winked back at fireflies,**_  
  
The darkened city of Chicago started to sparkle again. The lights started coming back on, spreading outward across the darkened ground far below. One by one, squares of city blocks winked back to life as the music continued to play, the lights happy and bright. Without explanation, the re-lighting was spreading out from the building where Cuppa Java was, washing outward in a ring like a wave, leaving gliterring city windows behind. More and more street lights and buildings sparkling anew, dazzling in the night.  
  
_**But now that the stars are in your eyes,  
I'm beginning to see the light.**_  
  
The head of the review board shook his head. He was still in his darkened study as Frechette paced before him in frustration. "The rest of the board will never agree, Ian. Trevor Hale has just not posed a serious enough threat yet. And as long as Dr. Allen's his therapist, the board will never go for that."  
"Well, then we--"  
board Frechette was interrupted as suddenly the power returned, the desk lamp flashing brightly to life, catching them by surprise. Frechette walked over to the window, watching the wave of returning lights moving off into the distance.  
  
As the stood together in Cuppa Java, Jaclyn and Champ stared in amazement out the large window, watching the city sparkle with light again. It took a few moments for them to realize that there was a sound coming from the hallway outside.  
The elevator was coming down.  
  
_**I never went in for afterglow,  
Or candlelight on the mistletoe,**_  
  
The hum of the descending elevator had started the moment the power had returned to the building. Both Champ and Jaclyn dashed out into the hallway, waiting anxiously in front of the elevator doors for the lift to reach their floor, the original destination Claire had pushed.  
Champ exhaled, sounding nervous as he watched the lit numbers above counting down, the elevator slowly dropping floor by floor. "They've been stuck in there for hours. Hope they haven't killed each other."  
Giving him a look, Jaclyn didn't seem very optimistic either. They turned towards the metal doors before them, waiting. There was a chime when the cab arrived.  
Smoothly, the elevator doors seperated, sliding open. Jaclyn and Champ both blinked at what they saw inside.  
  
_**But now when you turn the lamp down low,  
I'm beginning to see the light.**_  
  
Oblivious to the fact that they were being watched, Trevor and Claire were seated on the floor in the middle of the elevator. Trevor had Claire twisted around over his lap, their bodies plastered against each other as they kissed deeply, passionately, all their inhibitions finally gone. Their arms held each other tenderly, caressing each other, oblivious to anything else.  
They didn't know the power had been restored. They didn't know the elevator had moved at all. Or that Champ and Jaclyn were standing there, gaping at them in complete surprise from the hallway. All they knew was that the had been trapped, now they were free. As they kissed, Trevor and Claire were completely lost in each other. And for once, they didn't care about the repurcussions of what could happen. In that moment, the the only thing that matterred was that they loved each other. It was the only thing that had ever mattered.  
  
_**Used to ramble through the park,  
Shadow boxing in the dark**_  
  
Frechette nodded, reluctantly accepting the points head of the review board offered. "You're right. It's not enough yet to convince the rest of the board. We'll just have to wait. Watch them both, Dr. Allen and her patient. One of them will slip, make some mistake we can use, and we'll have them..."  
  
A television came on in a hospital waiting room as the power came back on. It was tuned to a cable news channel. Cameras and bulbs were flashing on the screen as they interviewed someone on the steps of a building. A despondant looking older man was surrounded by reporters, giving a statement from earlier in the day.  
He looked tearfully into the cameras, a caption on the screen beneath him reading New York Doctor-Patient Sex Scandal Resolves. The man went on, telling reporters that he was resigning, his liscence revoked, giving up his practice because of what he had done and the scandal it had caused. The tv droned on over the empty hospital waiting room.  
  
Jaclyn stood in the hallway watching Trevor and Claire kissing in the elevator. She smiled, joy replacing the surprise in her eyes. Standing beside her, Champ was still amazed, having expecting them to be pulling pieces of each other's sculls from their hair. Instead he gaped, faced with this, not expecting it in the least.  
"What happened?" he asked Jaclyn.  
Her eyes twinkled with happiness. "I think she finally found him..."  
Without Trevor and Claire noticing, the waiting elevator doors finally closed on them still kissing deeply, shutting them out of sight.  
  
Outside, a row of traffic lights over an empty street winked on again, stretching off into the distance, glowing a long line of red. Suddenly the nearest one turned green, a millisecond before the one beyond it and so on, all switching in a blink of an eye, rippling green into the distance like a wave. Beneath them, the road was a clear path, unobstructed as the green lights pointed the way forward. The nearest traffic light sparked slightly for no particular reason.  
  
_**Then you came and caused a spark  
There's a four alarm fire now...**_  
  
Frechette nodded, happy a course of action had finally been resolved on, still in the study. They would bide their time, wait for a mistake. Seated on either side of the desk, the two men lifted glasses of amber liquid in a toast of silent agreement.  
  
Inside the elevator, Trevor and Claire were still kissing. Finally he pulled off her lips, looking into her eyes. They leaned their heads together, both caressing the other's face, out of breath and overwhelmed.  
"Are you okay, Trevor?"  
"Yeah... Never been in love before. You're my first...."  
"I'll be gentle..." she teased.  
She looked at him. "You know we'll have to keep this secret..."  
"I can to that. You know me. King of low key..."  
She laughed, not buying that for a second.  
"Claire... Tell me one thing first."  
Panting, Claire looked lovingly into his eyes. "What's that..."  
"I know I'm Cupid..." Trevor grazed his finger tips gently across her lips, loving and tender. "Tell me you believe..."  
Claire smiled, then she slowly began to kiss him, again and again and again, even as her voice spoke in a joyful whisper. "I believe..."  
Swimming in her kisses, Trevor laughed playfully, holding her face. "Liar..."  
  
_**I never made love by lantern shine  
I never saw rainbows in my wine**_  
  
They began to kiss in earnest again, their arms wrapping around each other, not wanting to be anywhere else in that moment, wanting to hold on to it, hold on to it's warmth, keep it close to light up the cold night. After what had been far too long for both of them, they both suddenly felt alive again, swimming in their love for each other, rising in it, their hearts beating close together.  
  
_**but now that your lips are burning mine  
I'm beginning to see the light...**_  
  
Outside, above the newly relit lights of Chicago, stars glittered far above, shining out of a serenic night, turning slowly. For once they didn't seem dimmed at all by the glow of the city lights, almost appearing content as they winked gently down.  
Then something flutterred into view. It was a single white feather, swerving and swooping upward, caught in some gently rising updraft, rising higher and higher. It grew smaller, disappearing into the night air beyond until it was gone as the stars still glitterred. The music that had been playing faded. And everything restfully... faded to black.  
  


THE END  
  
to be continued in  
  
PERIGEE  
  
Part 7 of 5  
  



End file.
